


Hannibal Lecter's Cabinet of Curiosities

by obfuscatedheart



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Freak Show, Hannibal runs a circus, M/M, Rimming, Victorian era, Will is a medium, mischa is alive, the greatest showman au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obfuscatedheart/pseuds/obfuscatedheart
Summary: Hannibal Lecter is leading a dull life working at a bank, since he had to sell his parent’s shop. His life is changed when he visits a curiosity cabinet. Starting his own gives him success but he knows he needs more. Meeting the infamous medium Will Graham makes him think that Will may be the missing jewel to his collection
Relationships: Beverly Katz/Mischa Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 88
Collections: MHBB2019





	Hannibal Lecter's Cabinet of Curiosities

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the 2019 Murder Husbands Big Bang. I had the absolute pleasure of working with kishafisha. Check out their accompanying art [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601225/chapters/51506935)  
> Beta'd by the incredible [jonnimir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonnimir/pseuds/jonnimir)

Hannibal sighs, looking at the almost empty till. there are a few shillings right at the back. He supposes that he might be able to pay the alteration seamstress with the money. A shilling should be able to buy a bit of bread for supper. Mischa is at home waiting for him and he knows he needs to feed her. Hannibal can forgo another meal if he has to. 

He takes the coins out of the till and closes up the shop. Hannibal had taken over the shop from his father when his parents had passed away during a flu epidemic, leaving him with his baby sister and a shop to run. It wasn’t that he hated working in the shop but it wasn’t something that he wanted to do with his life, but like so often life had other plans. Hannibal locks the door behind him, puts on his hat and walks home. 

The fog in London is particularly bad on that day, he can barely see further than a foot ahead of him. He walks to the bakers on muscle memory alone. When he gets there he greets the shopkeeper, who only nods at him. It’s the baker’s wife. Most people find it unusual to see a married woman working, but he has always believed that a married woman’s life should not stop the moment she enters a marriage. 

He picks the smallest loaves he can find and she wraps them in brown paper before passing them to Hannibal. He thanks her and passes her all but three of the shillings. He knows that it will barely be enough to pay the alteration seamstress, he just hopes that the next few days are somewhat better for the shop. He doesn’t know what he will do if business doesn’t pick up. He may be forced to sell the shop and find something else, even though it is the last piece he has of his parents. 

Hannibal reaches the house and lets himself in. His sister is sat in the lounge reading. The sight of her brightens his mood. Walking over to her, he kisses the top of her head. She turns to him and gives him a bright smile. 

“How was it?”

“Dismal.”

“You could always sell the shop. Then find something else to do.”

“It was our parents’ shop. It’s all we have of theirs.”

Mischa sighs. It’s an argument they have had many times. “I am sure mum and dad would rather we were able to eat than starve to death with the shop still open.”

He sits down on the coach next to her and sighs, “Maybe it is time. But what would I do instead? 

“The bank is hiring.”

“And be surrounded by rude bankers, I think not.”

Mischa turns on Hannibal, placing the book next to him. “What do you suggest then?”

“I don’t know. To be honest I haven’t thought about it.”

“You can ignore rude customers but working with them is too much?” 

“It’s the thought of spending several hours with them that’s very off-putting.”

“So ignore them. You are very good at freezing people out."

“I suppose you are right.”

“I am always right,” she says with a laugh. 

“You are indeed.” He stands. “I’ll go get the bread sliced and try to rustle something up.”

She hums in agreement and returns to her book. He walks into the kitchen, cutting six slices of bread and placing two of them on forks before passing them through the flame of the cooker until they are golden brown. 

He takes each of the slices of toast and places them on the untoasted bread. Sprinkling a few crumbs of salt and pepper on each of the sandwiches, he puts on the lids. He plates the two sandwiches and brings them to the lounge. 

“Will you join me in the dining room?”

Mischa looks at him. “We haven’t got enough coal to light the room.”

He sighs. He decides then: he will get that job at the bank. Mischa is annoyingly right, they need a steady income to be able to continue to live. 

Hannibal passes over the plate to Mischa who takes it gratefully. She eats, and Hannibal knows that she is just being polite by eating the food. He does suppose that it is likely one of the only meals she is eating today. She smiles at him like she knows exactly what he is thinking. 

***

The sale of the shop goes easier than he expects. With the money in his pocketbook he pays the alterations seamstress what he owes her and then buys groceries. When he reaches his flat he greets Mischa, who hugs him close. 

“I know this was hard on you. But it’s for the better.”

“I know it is. But it still feels hard.”

“Have you applied to the job?”

“I have, and I start on Monday.”

“See. I told you you would be able to get the job.”

Hannibal chuckles. Mischa is nothing if not persistent. “I will miss the shop.”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek and takes the bags from him. He follows her into the kitchen and helps her put everything away.

“We could go for tea?” Hannibal suggests when they finish. “Not the Ritz, but there are some other places.”

“That sounds good. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“There is a curiosity cabinet in town this week. Can we go?”

“I suppose we could check it out.”

She throws her arms around him and cries, “thank you!”

He laughs, holding her close. She has grown tall enough for him to test his chin at the top of her head. Kissing her head he gently frees himself. “I have to go pay the seamstress and whilst I do that, why don’t you pick a tea room.”

Mischa kisses his cheek, and walks into the lounge. Watching her go with a smile, Hannibal takes the amount he needs for the seamstress and heads back out. For once the sun is shining, and London looks its best with the streets lit in the golden light. 

***

Mischa and Hannibal are sat in a quaint tea room that he had never heard of before, but by the quality of the sandwiches and tea is pleasantly surprised. Mischa is grinning at him smugly, she knows that he usually prefers choosing these locations himself because he is very particular. He supposes after so many years together she would know his peculiarities well. 

He smiles back and she chuckles. It is nice to see her so happy when for the last few months their situation had been weighing on her. He hates himself for not acting sooner, feeling as though he had failed her in some way. She pats his knee to get his attention and gives him a smile. As always, Mischa seems to know exactly what he is thinking. She is truly a light in his life. 

Hannibal sits back and sips at his tea. “Have you found something to wear for Monday?”

“Of course,” he says with a sly smile.

“I imagine it will be the check suit.”

“You know me far too well.”

“I just know that the suit is something that makes you feel powerful and you want to make a good impression.”

Mischa hums and returns to her sandwich and her book. Someone approaches their table and looks at Mischa with a shocked expression, like he cannot believe that a woman is reading in public. He clears his throat and Hannibal looks to the man.

“Can we help?”

“I couldn’t help but notice the beauty of your companion.”

“Yes?” Mischa is watching hin with an interested look.

“I was wondering whether there is a possibility of escorting her for an evening.”

“Well sir, I do wonder if you had asked my sister whether she is willing.”

The man stammers, “I, I, I didn’t think.”

“That much is obvious. Besides by the look you gave her when you discovered her reading is enough for me to know that you do not care for her opinion.”

Mischa turns her head to the man and says, “I am not willing.”

“Well, that solves it then, she is not willing. And you are not welcome at the table any longer.”

The man puffs his chest as if he is about to say something further.

“Whatever you are about to say is not something that interests either of us. So move along before you embarrass yourself.” Hannibal says before turning his head away.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see the man walk away from their table looking very flushed. It fills him with satisfaction. Mischa is barely containing laughter and gives him a conspiratorial wink. He smiles at her and they continue eating and drinking in companionable silence. 

When they finish Hannibal takes Mischa by the arm and they take a walk around the park that is just outside the tea room. Mischa is beaming from ear to ear and it feels Hannibal with joy. 

“So this curiosity cabinet you mentioned?”

“Yes, it will be starting tomorrow. You said we could go.”

“That I did indeed. And you know I always keep my promises.”

“I know you do, but I just wanted to check, I know it’s not exactly what you might want to do but I thought it could be interesting.”

“It will be interesting that’s certain.” 

Mischa laughs, “you don’t need to sound so enthused.”

A man brushes past them with a dirty look, it is something that Hannibal is used to. So many people find his accent strange. It angers him as London is a hotpot of different cultures but the accent seems to be more jarring for people.

“Ignore him. Some people are so close-minded.”

He sighs and squeezes her arm. She is and always will be a light of his life, a reminder of their previous life.

***

Mischa is dragging him along to the entrance of the house. The street is lit moodily with candles, wax pooling on the pavement. Hannibal has to admit that it does look atmospheric, and that it might be interesting to see what awaits them inside.

At the entrance someone is handing out champagne; after looking to Mischa and then Hannibal, who nods, the waiter passes a glass to Mischa. She accepts it with glee, sipping at the glass delicately. Her smile alone is worth his permission she is grinning at him as she steps inside and Hannibal follows her.

Lining the corridor are various specimen jars, with a large amount of medical oddities. He finds them fascinating. He loses Mischa, who carries on walking further into the house. Inspecting every jar in turn, he regrets that he never had the opportunity to go to University to study medicine. He had always been fascinated. Each label is painstakingly calligraphed and Hannibal is surprised by it, expecting something a bit more casual. 

He walks further into the house until he reaches a large room. There are a number of contortionists who are slowly twisting into various positions. He can see why Mischa was excited to see it; it is nothing like he had expected. In the middle of the room is a woman with a beard. People are gawking at her, and he finds that distasteful. He approaches her and gives her a warm smile.

“How are you doing?”

“I could be better – it is a little embarrassing.”

“I can imagine. Are you at least getting compensated for your discomfort?”

“I will get a few shillings for the evening.”

“That is not nearly enough.”

“It is kind of you to think that, sir. But I usually work at the docks in the back of my father’s fish stall, so a few shillings is more than I have ever made in one day.”

Hannibal considers that for long moments before bidding her farewell. He catches Mischa talking to one of the contortionists, deep in conversation. Until a man approaches and hisses something at the performer, who flushes and then begins twisting into different positions. Then Mischa catches a glance of Hannibal and walks over to him.

“He was rude,” Mischa says when she is stood next to him.

“I spoke with the bearded woman, she is only getting a few shillings for the evening.”

“It’s a shame, they should be allowed to do what they want to do.”

“You’re right. Everyone in this room should be treated like people, rather than an attraction. I know what it’s like to be treated like an oddity.”

“You’re getting an idea, aren’t you?”

“I just wonder if there’s a way to combine it with a circus, where these people’s talents are highlighted as opposed to being gawked at.”

“You want to start your own curiosity cabinet, don’t you?”

“The idea might hold some appeal.”

“Well if there’s someone who could do it, it would be you.”

“You don’t think it’s silly?”

“I think it’s great. Did you want to head home? This place is beginning to make me feel sad.”

“Let’s go.”

They walk home discussing the possible locations and how they could set it up.

***

On Monday Hannibal wakes early; it is the first day that he will be working at the bank. Already the thought of it bores him, especially with the tentative plans Hannibal and Mischa have been discussing. They have already looked at potential plots of land where they could erect a tent, but he knows before they will be able to do anything they need more money, even with the money they have made with the sale of the shop.

He dresses after having had a cup of tea. Checking himself in the mirror one final time, he adjusts his tie and his hat. He writes Mischa a note and then pulls on his coat, stepping out of the house and into the cold morning air. The air is bracing. Autumn had always been Hannibal’s favourite season, when the mornings are brisk but there is weak sunshine that might warm the day later.

Hannibal catches a bus into the City of London, reaching the stone monolith of the bank. He can feel a little part of himself die with each step towards the doors. He pushes one door open and walks over to the desk. He greets the man sitting there, and gives his name. The man nods and gestures Hannibal to follow him.

Each step rings and echoes in the marble halls. It is somewhat harrowing. They ascend several floors until they reach a floor that is filled with desks that are all centered around a large round. The hub of the bank’s exchange. The man shows him to a desk and Hannibal sits. The man tells him that someone will be there soon to guide him through his tasks, and then leaves.

There is almost no one else on the floor, but there is still a hum of talk. He wonders where it is coming from, and concludes that it must come from the other floors. Finally a man approaches him. He gives Hannibal an odd glance, especially at his suit, which Hannibal sees now may be flashier than is usual for a banker. The man is dressed in a sombre black suit. Hannibal decides then that he will continue to wear the suits he likes. 

“You know how to use the Difference Machine?”

“I do.”

“Good. I need you to complete the calculations listed here and transcribe them onto here.” Hannibal is passed a series of papers. “Then once you’ve finished those, come find me at the round and I’ll give you the next bit of work.”

The man looks at him, “I’m Crawford, by the way.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Crawford.”

“Well do you have any other questions?”

“None at the moment.”

“Good. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty and served in the canteen. You will have 30 minutes. Finish at five. Wages will be paid on Friday.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Well get to it.” He turns on his heel and walks away.

Hannibal begins sorting through the pieces of paper to figure out the best way to complete the task. Looking through the drawers on his desk he finds a pen, an inkwell and blotting paper. Arranging the items on the desk, he begins working through the sums.

When he has finished, he carries the completed papers to the round in the middle of the floor. The floor itself is beginning to fill with other men. Like Crawford, they all seem to prefer black suits, but Hannibal remains convinced of his conviction not to change his style of clothing. 

Crawford looks surprised to see him. “Finished already?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It usually takes everyone until lunch to finish the first page.”

“I have some practice with sums like these, I ran my parents’ shop for a while.”

“That will do it.” Crawford looks around the desk he is working at and passes him a larger stack of papers. “This should take you to lunch, and then we will see after that.”

“Yes, sir.”

He takes the stack from Crawford and returns to his desk. The men around him are giving him odd stares, but Hannibal chooses to ignore them. 

Beginning work on the papers, he tunes out the rest of the floor. He works until a bell rings out. He checks his pocket watch; true to Crawford’s word, he has finished almost all of the work required of him. For a short moment he considers finishing everything before finding something to eat, but he doesn’t want to lose out on his break.

Hannibal follows the crowd of men down the stairs. The end of the journey is a large hall in the basement. The last thing he expects is the plethora of food choices. Most of them are the standard lunch options: light salads and soups. There are a few more substantial options but Hannibal bypasses them completely. 

He chooses a tomato soup and a roll to go with it. He feels nervous about the quality of the food, but he knows that for the next day he will be able to bring lunch from his home. Planning recipes whilst he eats the soup is a good distraction from the mediocre food. 

Finishing the soup, he returns to the floor that he is working on and finishes the work that he had almost completed. A second bell rings and from the hubbub he can tell that everyone is returning to work. When he sees Crawford, he approaches with the completed papers. Crawford gives him a knowing look.

He passes over another stack to Hannibal. “You know, if you keep this up you can advance quickly here.”

Hannibal hums noncommittally, as although the boost in income would be welcome he wonders how this might impact the ability to run his cabinet. He returns to his desk to continue working.

He finishes this set by three, so he decides to take one of the leaves of paper he finds in his desk to sketch out some fliers asking for auditions. He plans it for a few weekends in the future, which should give him enough time to find a venue and possibly some staff that may be available. 

The bell rings again at five, and he takes the finished papers to Crawford, and then gathering his sketches leaves the building. Stepping into the open air makes him feel better, less like he is in a prison. He feels better the further he gets from the building, and decides to walk further than the nearest underground station. 

The ride, mercifully, is quick, and soon he is outside the house. When he goes inside he finds Mischa, who as usual, is curled up on a sofa with a book.

Hannibal passes the sketches to her and she is delighted by them. She makes a few suggestions on the wording, and he incorporates them into the design. Looking through the newspaper he tries to find the location of the printers to see if he can get the posters printed. In the back of the newspaper are the classifieds, and he finds a few people advertising their own individual freak shows for parties. He takes their details and decides to write some letters. 

Mischa gives him a big smile and returns to her book. He walks into his study in order to write the letters. A few of the adverts had seemed promising. There was a contortionist who had stated that they were from Japan; the mere mention of the country had made him miss Lady Murasaki. She had been such a formative part of his youth, giving him his love of the finer things as well as an appreciation for language.

The other advert he had found was for a double act. The exact contents of this act had been vague, but the way they had formulated the advert had been amusing. He writes the letters inviting both to the audition he is going to hold in two weeks.

***

Each day at the bank follows in much the same way as the first one had: he works through the papers Crawford gives him and then leaves at the end of the day. The highlight of the week is collecting a pay cheque at the end of it. The majority of each wage he saves ready for his cabinet. He finds a venue after the first week of working; it is perfect.

The tent had proven to be more difficult than he had anticipated. But as so often, Mischa was able to find a solution. She had been furiously reading and researching in newspapers. She had found a tiny advert in a previous newspaper of a circus that was retiring, and he had purchased the tent.

It had needed a great deal of repairs before he was able to put it up with the help of a handyman he found in the papers. Hannibal decides to keep the men on for the future, and they seem to be enjoying working for Hannibal.

He knows that he is a hard taskmaster, but he is very exact with his wishes. Luckily the man he hired seems to be keen to please and is meeting each and every one of the expectations that he has. 

Hannibal gets the fliers printed and posts them around areas in London where he supposes that groups will be frequenting. He received replies from all of the acts he contacted, each of them had agreed to the audition. 

***

The day of the audition arrives and the tent is in place for it, he has equipment ready for the acts that need it. At 9:00 sharp he lets in the group that has gathered outside the tent; he is surprised at the amount of people there. He recognises a few people, including the bearded lady he had spoken to at the curiosity cabinet. He gives her a smile and she beams back at him. 

She introduces himself as Alana Bloom. She is delightful and Hannibal thinks she would be a perfect fit for his cabinet. She is the first one he calls up, she takes centre stage in the tent and sings. Hannibal barely pays attention to what she is singing as her voice is lovely, it moves him so much that he begins to tear up. It creates a sense of longing for his former life, he feels the keen loss of his parents but also the happiness in having found a somewhat good life with Mischa. 

When she finishes the song, Hannibal leaps to his feet and begins to clap. He looks to Mischa who also has tears in her eyes. She gives only a small nod and Hannibal looks at Alana and says, “Welcome to the cabinet, Alana.”

She beams at him, and approaches him to shake his hand. Alana walks out of the tent with her head held high, the new confidence in her is great to see. 

The next act is a pair, Jimmy and Brian. With the help of Jimmy, Brian is able to stretch his skin far further than should be allowable. Hannibal spends the entire time laughing, a perfect antidote to the amount of feeling that Alana had instilled in him. 

At the end of the act Hannibal welcomes them to the cabinet.

The next person to audition is a small woman with dark hair. She gives him a challenging look before she clambers up the scaffolding and takes one of the trapezes. She swings through the air as if she was made to fly. He looks over to Mischa who is watching with rapt attention and a dreamy look in her eyes.

With a final flourish she dismounts and lands in the net that is stretched across the tent. She rolls off elegantly and stands in front of Hannibal with her hands on her hips, looking at him as if she dares him to think anything bad about her performance.

Hannibal goes up to her to shake her hand. “Welcome, Miss?”

“Katz.” She says as she takes his hand, and looks to Mischa who smiles back at her. “Beverly Katz.”

The last person they see is a small woman who spends 5 minutes contorting her body into a series of ever increasingly complex knots. Hannibal almost wants to wince in sympathy, afraid of what she is able to do. 

Hannibal is incredibly pleased with the group he has gathered; each of their skills is wildly different to the last, but if he plans it perfectly the performance will be thrilling to the last second. He still can’t help but wonder if there is something that he is missing from the cabinet though, even if he can’t quite put his finger on it.

***

The next few weeks Hannibal spends every waking moment with Mischa at the cabinet, rehearsing and getting everything ready for their grand opening. He has found an odd pair of handyman, Tobias and Franklyn, who seem inseparable, even though it is clear that the short portly one of them is almost obsessed with Hannibal, seemingly following his every move at all times. Even so, they work miracles with the tent, preparing it.

The night comes far too quickly and Hannibal feels nervous. Mischa is a constant support at his side. Her head for numbers is invaluable in keeping them afloat. They manage to sell enough tickets for the evening to cover costs. He hopes that more people will arrive in the evening, they had been able to advertise for the week leading up to opening night. 

He spends the rest of the day on opening night rehearsing his lines in his office. An hour before he goes to the dressing room, the entire group is chatting excitedly, he can hear the hum of a an ever growing crowd. He resists the urge to check behind the curtain to see what number of seats they have filled.

He is chatting with Beverly until Mischa approaches, but loses Beverly’s interest after that. Not that he can blame her, Mischa is an excellent conversation partner. But he still notices the way Beverly’s face brightens when she sees Mischa. He hopes that Mischa is happy.

Too quickly the time arrives to begin the show. He buttons his waistcoat and tails, and puts on his top hat.

Hannibal steps out into the ring and into the spotlight. An excited hush falls over the crowd, he draws a breath and begins.

*** 

The next morning Hannibal wakes with a smile on his face. The performance had been a roaring success. By the end the crowd was on their feet, the group had taken their bows to cheers.

He gets out of bed and makes breakfast for Mischa, and then goes to the front door to pick up the newspaper. Once he returns to the dining room, he opens up the paper to the arts section. Hannibal glances over the section until he finds a brief mention of the cabinet. He winces slightly when he reads the byline: Frederick Chilton.

“Review is in.” Hannibal says to Mischa, who is sat in her chair playing with her food slightly with a dreamy look on her face.

She looks up at him and her gaze sharpens. “Read it to me?”

“Of course.”

He spreads the paper out on the table and begins reading. “My dearest readers, last night was opening night for one Hannibal Lecter’s Cabinet of Curiosities. Well I can tell you there were curiosities to behold. It seems Hannibal Lecter is more concerned with polishing his own collection of jewels to actually deliver a performance where the edges shine just as well as he does. Is it not time, dear readers, that we have performances that feature the everyman rather than these carni freaks? One has to wonder what kind of depravity goes on behind the curtain, a sure hotbed of sin and filth. Therefore I cannot recommend that you go visit, protect your children and don’t expose them to filth and blasphemy.”

Hannibal slams the table in anger. It is so much worse than he had expected. Chilton was effectively telling anyone that they should not be taking their children to a child-friendly event. 

“That was Chilton, wasn’t it?”

Hannibal nods with a sigh. “I don’t know how we can recover.”

Hannibal hums in thought and Mischa smiles. “I have just the idea.”

“You do?”

“We need an upstanding citizen to bring a larger group.”

“How would that help?” 

“If we have someone that graces the higher classes, we look like we are a virtuous performance. It shows people that Hannibal Lecter’s Cabinet of Curiosities is something for everyone.”

“And how do you propose we do this?”

“We go to one of the parties that are always going on and find someone with an interest in us, and ask them to support us.”

“And you think they just will?”

“Hannibal, these types are bored with their lives. They need a distraction.”

“Did you have a group in mind? I sense that you have been doing some background research.”

“I have had some thoughts, it’s an idea I have been looking into. It would make financial sense to have a supporter.”

“As ever, you make perfect sense.”

“Now, I want you ready this evening for a party in Mayfair.”

“I knew you would have some time and group in mind.”

***

Mischa is hanging onto his arm. She looks stunning in a blue dress that she bought especially for this evening. Mischa is fitting in perfectly with the group around them. He knows he can probably charm them if he chooses to. But after a few words with a few of them he feels as though they can’t get over his accent.

“We need this, Hannibal. We need to find someone who will support us to legitimise the cabinet.”

“I know, but they are so dreary.”

“That they are.”

Laughter rings out in the room and it draws Hannibal’s eye. There is a group of people surrounding a man that he can’t quite see, until someone moves out of the way and he can see the man for the first time.

The man is shockingly beautiful; dark curls frame a face that features blue eyes that are filled with mirth and intelligence. Hannibal takes a step forward unconsciously, dragging Mischa along with him. She laughs and the man’s eyes dart towards them. He looks Hannibal over and gives him a small smile.

“Do you know who that is?”

“I must confess, I don’t.”

“It’s Will Graham. Rumor has it he is a medium, holds seances. They eat it up, as you can imagine. A fascination with the macabre.”

“If we had a medium, it could draw a certain crowd.”

“You could ask him.”

“I could, but I don’t know how I would do it.”

“Offer him a salaried position, I can’t imagine anyone turning that down.”

“Perhaps.”

She extricates herself and gives him a push in Will’s direction. “Go on, talk to him.”

He sighs and heads towards the group. Will turns to him, and smiles at him again. “How can I help?”

“I have a proposition for you."

“You do?” Will says with a quirked eyebrow. “I wonder what that could possibly be.”

There are titters in the group, and Will turns to them. “You will have to excuse me.”

He waits until the group has disappeared and then turns to Hannibal. “There is a pub around the corner. I am sure that otherwise we will be overheard by the entire group.”

“That is agreeable. I am sure Mischa will be absolutely fine.” He looks over at her; she is speaking to a man, and the twinkle in her eyes tells Hannibal that she is finding the man terribly dull.

“I can tell.”

The pub that Will leads him to is truly just around the corner. He takes a look around the place. There is no one there, which isn’t entirely surprising considering that it is still relatively early. The publican nods at Will and takes out two small glasses and fills them with a clear liquor before sliding them forwards.

Hannibal follows Will to the bar before taking a glass. He watches as Will drinks the liquid down in one gulp. Hannibal follows suit, and the liquid burns as it goes down. He suppresses the urge to cough and Will chuckles like he knows what is about to happen.

“So about that proposition, Hannibal.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know exactly who you are, Hannibal Lecter. Curator of Hannibal Lecter’s Cabinet of Curiosities, five nights a week, wonders for every taste.” Will shakes his head. “Am I another jewel for your collection?”

“I would want you to be a partner.”

Will laughs and the publican passes over another two shots. Will takes one of them and holds it up before drinking. After an expectant look from Will, Hannibal takes the other glass and gulps the contents down.

“You might find yourself a free man.”

He sits down on the stool at the bar, and Will sits down next to him. The publican passes over another shot and they down it in unison. 

“Right here, right now I put the offer out.”

Will considers him. Hannibal can tell from the look on his face that he is still sceptical.

“You run with me and I can cut you free of the drudgery and walls you keep within. Trade the typical for something colourful.”

He taps the bar and publican slides over the bottle. Hannibal pours them both another. He feels the alcohol begin to blur the edges of his vision.

“Don’t you want to get away from the same old part you have got to play?”

Will turns away from him, and annoyance flares in Hannibal. “Stay in the cage or you can take the key, free to fly to the other side.”

Hannibal takes another drink and Will does too. He notices how beautiful the other man is; dark lashes fan across his cheeks when he looks down at his glass.

“Okay,  _ my friend _ ,” he says derisively. “You want to cut me in. But that just won’t happen.”

He takes another drink and Hannibal can’t help his eyes following the way Will’s throat moves as he swallows. He feels flushed and he knows it is more than just the alcohol. 

“You see, I quite enjoy the life you say I am trapped in.” At Hannibal’s affronted look he adds, “Now, I do admire you, and the whole show you do, but I live among swells and we don’t pick up peanut shells.”

He gathers a drop of moisture that is running down the glass and flicks it at Hannibal. He is too drunk to truly do anything about it. “I’m okay with this uptown part I get to play. I’ve got what I need and I don’t need to see the other side.”

Will stands, and Hannibal turns around on his stool to watch the man pacing, he can tell that Will is trying to convince himself that he is happy.

“It isn’t a cage, so I don’t need a key.”

Will stops in his tracks and turns to Hannibal, who laughs before speaking. “Is this really how you want to spend your days? Whiskey, misery, parties and seances.”

“If I am mixed up with you, I’d be the talk of the town.” He sits back down and mumbles quietly, “Disgraced and disowned. Another one of your clowns.”

“But you would finally live a little. Finally laugh. Let me give you the freedom to dream. Wake you up and cure your aching.” Will is hanging onto his every word. “Take those walls and start breaking them. Now to me that seems to be a deal worth taking.”

He stands and adds, “But I guess I will leave that up to you.”

Hannibal is almost at the door before Will says something. “Well it is intriguing, but going would cost me greatly. What percentage of the cabinet would I be taking?”

Hannibal turns back around with a smile. “I guess you want a piece of the action.” He holds out his hand. “I’d give you seven, shake and we can make it happen.”

Will scoffs and ignores the hand in front of him. “I wasn’t born this morning, eighteen would be fine.”

Now Hannibal laughs, “Go ahead and ask for sixpence on the shilling.”

“Fifteen.”

“Eight.”

They are approaching each other; he knows the figure he is asking for is low, but he also knows that he is close to getting what he wants.

“Twelve.”

“Maybe nine.”

“Ten.” They both stop and then shake. The publican pours another shot and they both drink. 

“I got what you need, so come with me and take the ride.”

“Suddenly we’re free to fly to the other side.”

They are both breathing heavily, within arms distance of each other. The publican taps the bar and it breaks them out of their reverie and Will approaches him and passes over a pound note to the man. “Keep the change.”

Leaving the pub and heading back to the venue, Hannibal feels like he is stumbling over his feet a little bit. Will has a hand on his shoulder to steady him and he laughs. “Not really one for liquor?”

“Not in those quantities.”

“You haven’t spent enough time with the upper classes it would seem. Most of them would be skipping right now, even in spite of the large amounts of alcohol.”

“I wonder how they manage to remain upright.”

“It’s years of training. They start them young.”

Hannibal exhales, he feels dizzy. “That must be hard to stomach.”

Will laughs and then opens the door for Hannibal. They stumble into the room and Mischa comes walking up to them. She looks concerned but visibly relaxes when she sees Hannibal smile at her.

She has her hands on her hips looking between the two of them and both Will and Hannibal laugh. Shooing them out of the door she shuts it behind her when they are outside.

“So you’re onboard.” she says to Will. Hannibal can see even in his inebriated state that she is smiling from ear to ear.

“I am indeed.” Will says seriously. His hand still hasn’t left Hannibal’s shoulder, it burns even through his suit jacket.

“Good, we needed you. You know how people work, and it will hopefully help shine some of the edges.”

“You’re quoting that review,” Will says after a moment of hesitation.

Hannibal turns to him. “You have read the article?”

“I did know who you were.”

“I suppose, but it’s not the most flattering portrait of the cabinet.”

“It wasn’t, but Chilton is a hack who only like two things: overacted operas and performances of Shakespeare that are ‘original to the bard’s vision’.”

“He is a frightful bore.”

“So we will make it so good that he has no choice but to give it a glowing review,” Will says with a finality that indicates that he is sure of it.

“Right, if you two are finished, I feel like I ought to be taking Hannibal home now.”

Will nods and removes the hand from his shoulder. Immediately Hannibal misses the weight and heat of his hand. He feels a little foolish, especially with the look Mischa is giving him. Will nods at Hannibal and says, “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Yes you will. You have the address.”

“I do indeed. Expect me at ten.”

He walks into the night whistling and Hannibal watches him go for a bit before he turns to Mischa, who is watching him with a bemused look.

“He is handsome.”

“Oh really?"

“Hannibal, of course you noticed, you always notice.”

“He does have a certain appeal.”

“More than certain I would wager.”

He shushes her and she laughs. “Can we go home? I am finding myself rather tired.”

“And just a little bit drunk I imagine.”

“That is a distinct possibility.”

“You look happy.”

“I am. I got what I wanted.”

“Well, not quite.”

He gives her a scandalised look and she laughs again. “We have no secrets and I know your type.”

“That you do.”

She drags him down the road and into a waiting taxi. She instructs the driver whilst Hannibal collapses into the seat. He feels giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing Will again. The short drive goes by quickly, and still Hannibal manages to doze off. When they arrive he jolts awake, cursing the fact that he had drunk so much. Mischa helps him out of the cab and pays the driver.

He stumbles into their home, Mischa close behind him. She follows him up the stairs to his room and helps him out of his suit, and into the bed. Hannibal smiles at her, he is exhausted. She tucks him in just like their mother used to, before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Mischa smiles at him. “Good night, dear brother. Things will look up you see.”

Hannibal falls asleep and dreams of Will’s sparkling eyes. 

He wakes the next morning with a headache that feels overwhelming. Although he doesn’t regret spending time with Will, the alcohol consumed is a little regretful. He makes his way downstairs, and finds Mischa in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea. She greets him with a smile, and passes over a cup of tea to him.

Hannibal takes it gratefully, sipping at the drink carefully.

“So you will be seeing Will in a little while.”

“That I will."

“Decided on an outfit?”

“I have a plan.”

“Of course you do.”

“It is just part of my usual rotation of suits.”

“Of course it is.” She doesn’t sound convinced, even though he is telling the truth.

“Well, I need to get ready.”

Mischa smiles at him and he kisses the top of her head. Her blonde hair is soft and reminds him so much of his mother. He misses her all over again. It’s the small things he misses: the way she would hum as she was stitching something by the fire, the way she would smile at him when he served his parents dinner, and how she smelled.

He squeezes Mischa’s shoulder and she smiles at him like she knows exactly what he is thinking. Hannibal walks back upstairs and begins to dress. The suit he has chosen is the one he wore on his first day at the bank. The grey wool is intercut with the red check. He knows that it is far more decorated than anything anyone else is wearing.

He bids Mischa a good day as he leaves. She will most likely be joining him later at the cabinet. She usually joins him there to help him with some of the administration, and the copy for adverts that they circulate every so often. 

The cabinet is bustling when he arrives. The various acts are warming up, ready for the drips and drabs of the lunchtime crowd. The show they hold during the day is short, just enough for people to pop in and then leave for the rest of the working day. Often the customers who join them for lunch end up coming in the evening and stay much longer.

Beverly swings above his head and gives him a smile when she sees him. “How did it go?”

“What do you mean, how did it go?”

“Your meeting with Will.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I spoke with Mischa last night.”

“I should have known that the two of you are conspiring against me.”

“Not against, with.”

“That is an important distinction.”

She laughs and then dismounts from the trapeze. “So what is he like?”

“He’s different.”

“That’s not surprising if he communes with the dead.”

“You know it’s smoke and mirrors?”

“Of course, but a little strangeness makes it more appealing – a certain mysticism.”

“I’ll give you that.”

Beverly laughs. “Mischa mentioned you were quite taken with him.”

“He will be a great addition to the cabinet.”

She hums, and claps him on the shoulder, “you wore your impressive suit, so that’s not all you have in mind.”

“I don’t think I can discuss this any further.”

She smiles at him sadly and squeezes his shoulder. “I know what you mean. Some things are better left unsaid.”

Beverly walks back to the scaffolding that holds up the trapezes. He watches her climb up gracefully; sometimes he considers whether she had been a monkey in a previous life.

Hannibal turns around when he hears his name being called. He is surprised when he sees Will inside the tent. He looks like he belongs there, and it does something to Hannibal.

Will approaches him with the cocksure gait that he had the previous evening. When he reaches Hannibal he smiles broadly. “Some show you have here.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

“I can imagine.” Will practically purrs the words. “Did you have any plans for the booth?”

“The booth?”

“You mentioned that my being able to speak to the dead would draw a crowd.”

“That I did. My apologies, my head still hasn’t caught up with me quite yet.”

Will hums in agreement. “The liquor was maybe not the best idea I’ve had.”

“So tell me everything,” Will says after a pause.

“I started this a few months ago, after visiting a cabinet where the people were just on display.”

“You thought that it shouldn’t be a zoo.”

“Zoos have their merit, but not for people.”

“Tell me about who is working here.”

He points upwards at Beverly who is swinging on the trapeze again. “That is Beverly. You can almost believe that she is able to fly.”

“I can imagine.”

“Jimmy and Brian are a double act. Jimmy’s skin stretches very far, their bit is rather amusing.”

Will follows him around the tent as he talks until he reaches Chiyoh. “This is Chiyoh, she can contort her body into almost every conceivable position.”

Hannibal observes as Will watches Chiyoh fold herself into the box. “Now that is impressive.”

He smiles at him, glad that Will finds her impressive. He is very fond of Chiyoh, she reminds him of his aunt.

“Now the person that started all of this.” Hannibal is now stood next Alana. “This is the wonderful Alana Bloom.”

She reaches out a hand and Will shakes it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“I have indeed, you are supposed to have the loveliest voice.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s the loveliest,” Alana says with a smile.

“Alana is being modest, she sings like a nightingale.”

“Hannibal, you are too kind.”

“Nonsense. I simply speak the truth.” Hannibal knows that Alana has been a draw for a great number of people.

“Thank you for your time, Alana.” Will says after a moment and then grabs Hannibal’s hand and pulls him to the entrance of the tent and outside.

“You love them.” Will says when they are out of earshot of everyone else.

“They are my family.”

“You would protect them with your life.”

“That I would.”

Hannibal smiles sadly. He just wishes he could have done more for his parents.

“They would be proud of you.”

“Who would?”

“Your parents.”

“How did you know about them?”

“I’m very good at reading people and the loss is written all over you.”

“It is? To everyone?”

“Oh no. You hide it well, but like I said I’m good at reading people.”

“That’s how you do it, isn’t it?"

“Yes, I know what people want to hear and I let them hear it.” He smiles. “Besides, it is always the same things people want to hear. Forgiveness, confessions of love and affirmation of affection.”

“Most people are in want of affection.”

Will hums thoughtfully before saying, “Do you want for affection?”

“My sister is affectionate.”

“She is indeed. She loves you, it’s obvious.” Will pushes his hair back out of his eyes before continuing. “But that is not what I meant.”

“I know. I suppose there is a lack of affection.”

“That is surprising. You would make someone very happy.”

“That sounds like a compliment.”

“You should take it as one.”

“You’re too kind.”

“Only stating it the way it is.”

Hannibal smiles. “Now, you mentioned a booth.”

“I did. I think it would help if people could come to see the medium.”

“What about a small tent? We could make it atmospheric with heavy silks, candles and incense.”

“That could work. People certainly like things that hint at the exotic.”

“What could be more exotic than communing with the dead?”

Will laughs, “It is plenty exotic.”

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

“You are paying me for this. Besides, this will be different to the everyday routine, of sitting in chintzy front rooms telling another widow how much her husband loved her.”

“A noble cause.”

“That it might have been. But you were right, it was time to move on and see things from the other side.”

“I’m glad I was able to tempt you away.”

Will hums again, and considers Hannibal for long moments. “Now how long do you think it would take to build the tent?”

“I can talk to Franklyn and he should have something ready tomorrow. With the help of Tobias.”

“You have a good team around you.”

Hannibal smiles. “They are incredible. They built the entire thing here, because they believed in what I was doing.”

“They love you. They consider you their family.”

“They are that.” Hannibal sighs. “I just hope that Chilton doesn’t ruin me. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Chilton doesn’t have nearly the power he thinks he does, and you won’t.”

“Chilton has it in for me,” Hannibal says with a sigh. “He is whipping the town up into a frenzy, calling us degenerates and smut peddlers.”

“Do you pedal a lot of smut?”

Hannibal laughs. “This cabinet is suitable for all ages. No smut to be found anywhere.”

“Now that is a shame,” Will says, and he sounds sincere. Hannibal doesn’t know exactly what he is supposed to think about that. He can feel the tension crackling between them. Hannibal has to control his urge to reach out to touch him.

Will seems to know because he gives him a heated look. Hannibal feels like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. “So any other requirements for the tent?”

“Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”

“I like the idea, I can start sketching some things.”

“You sketch?”

“When the mood strikes.”

“What sort of things will strike that mood?”

“Beautiful things.”

“You see beauty in everything.”

“That I do. Especially when I am always surrounded with beauty.”

Will hums in thought, and then says, “I need to run a few errands in the centre of town. But I will be back later this afternoon.” 

“That’s fine. I have a few ideas I want to get a down on paper, and ask about that tent.”

“I will see you later,” Will says. He squeezes Hannibal’s shoulder and leaves. Instantly Hannibal misses Will’s presence. 

After a short while he makes his way over to Tobias and Franklyn. The two men are arguing about something and as soon as Hannibal appears they stop talking. Franklyn is flushed red and he doesn’t look Hannibal in the eye.

He can imagine the topic of the argument: him. Hannibal doesn’t voice what he is thinking, filing it away for later for when he sees Mischa. “Gentlemen, I had an idea.”

“A tent for Will Graham.” Franklyn huffs when Tobias says that. 

“You read my mind, Tobias.” Hannibal smiles.

“I don’t know about that.” Tobias has always been a man of few words. “We can have something together by the end of today.”

“Thank you, Tobias and Franklyn. I owe you.”

“You owe us nothing more than the salary you pay us,” Franklyn says after a long moment. 

“I truly appreciate it.”

“We know.” Tobias says he turns to Franklyn. “We have to go to the ironmonger and get a few things.” 

Franklyn nods and the two men walk away. Hannibal smiles and watches them go. Hannibal knows that there is something about the way Franklyn considers him, and that it makes Tobias wildly jealous even if he doesn’t say anything.

Laughter catches Hannibal’s attention, and he looks around the arena and catches sight of Mischa who is talking to Beverly. There is something in the way that Mischa is looking at Beverly, and Hannibal can see the fondness there.

He approaches them slowly and Mischa smiles at him when he reaches her. “So?”

“We are going to be adding a small tent, for Will to hold his seances.”

“That will be good.”

“I believe it will.”

“You want to start sketching straightaway.”

“You know me far too well.”

“Go on. I can handle things from here.”

Hannibal squeezes her hand slightly and she smiles at him.

Beverly claps his shoulder. “I can keep an eye on Tobias and Franklyn for you.”

“I appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing, really Hannibal, it is nothing in comparison to what you have done for me And from the rest of the troupe.”

Hannibal smiles. “I owe you all awe.”

“Go sketch. And let us all get ready for the show.”

“I concede. I will be on my way.”

He leaves them. He can hear their laughter still when he reaches his office.

Getting out his sketchpad from the drawer in his desk, he reaches for his pencils and begins to sketch.

A knock on his door breaks him out of his reverie, he checks the clock. He knows exactly who is behind the door. “Come on in.”

Will opens the door and he is smiling. He is carrying something in a bag under his arm. Hannibal almost wants to cover the sketch he has on his desk but he can see that Will has already caught sight of it.

“Show me.”

“Fine. But know that it isn’t finished yet.” He hands over the pad to Will, who drops his bag onto the chair opposite Hannibal and looks over the sketch.

The longer Will looks at it without saying anything, the more nervous Hannibal becomes. After what seems like far too many agonising minutes Will looks up. Hannibal is surprised to see that there are tears in his eyes.

“You don’t like it.”

“That’s not it, Hannibal. I love it.” Will sighs and then moves the bag from the chair and sits down. “You made me look beautiful.”

“I only recreated what I already saw in front of me.”

“I didn’t know you saw me like that.”

“Like I said, I only recreated what was already there.” He pauses. “What do you think of the tent?”

“It’s perfect.”

“Great, Alana can get some fabric samples for the silks for you to choose.”

“I don’t need to pick something. You will choose the perfect fabrics anyway.”

“I am grateful for your trust, Will. It means a great deal to me.”

“It’s easy to trust you. I have never met someone who is so passionate about caring for people they love.”

“You flatter me.”

“No more than you flatter me.” Will opens the bag and pulls out a box. “I got something to wear for the seances.”

“Show me.”

Will takes off the lid of the box and carefully unwraps the tissue paper. He holds up a clothing item, it unfolds and Hannibal can see the waistcoat in full. The waistcoat is a deep navy blue with a paisley pattern in lighter shades of blue. Hannibal knows that the blues will bring out the blues in Will’s own eyes, especially in the candlelight of the tent. 

“It’ll work brilliantly.”

Will smiles. “Thank you. I thought it was just outrageous enough for people to think of something exotic, and safe enough for people to feel safe.”

“I think your quest has been achieved.”

“You make it sound grand, like we’re the knights of the round table rather than just planning entertainment for the guests of your cabinet.”

“You mean  _ our  _ cabinet. We’re in this together.”

Will smiles. “You never said when my tent would be ready.”

“By this evening.”

“That fast?”

“Franklyn and Tobias work miracles.”

“They really seem to be able to move fast.”

“Do you want to stay and watch them build?”

Will considers him for long moments. “I’d rather be surprised. Besides, I have one final stuffy seance to perform in a living room.”

“Another stuffy living room?”

“Sadly yes, but after tonight I’m all yours.”

“All mine?”

“Like you said, we’re in this together. I’m all in.”

Hannibal smiles. He can feel his heart beating in his chest like it is threatening to jump out of his throat. It is odd how quickly he finds himself wanting to have Will around him at all times. He knows exactly what Mischa would say: that he should pursue Will. But although there are hints in the things Will says to him, he isn’t sure whether it isn’t just Will being polite.

“I’m all in too,” Hannibal says after a moment, and the smile Will gives him in return is radiant. “What time will you be back?”

“Around 8:00 I imagine, these ones never take long.”

“I will have everything ready by then.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

“I will endeavour not to disappoint.”

Hannibal stands and leads Will to a cab that is waiting across the street. Will thanks him with a smile and gives the driver an address. With the crack of a whip, the cab sets off. 

He walks back to the main tent and checks in on the troupe. They basically shoo him off, more interested in preparing for the evening performance. With a laugh, he heads over to his office.

He opens the door and Mischa is sat at his desk; he assumes she is looking at the books to check over the finances. “You have got it bad.”

“What do you mean?”

She holds up his sketch. He had forgotten that he had left it on the desk for anyone to see. It’s like he is seeing the sketch properly for the first time. The main focus of the sketch is Will, whose eyes are intense and looking out directly at him. There is very little detail in the background, just enough to tell that there is draped silk, but not much else. 

“Ah. I see what you mean.”

“Are you going to do anything about it?”

“I want to, but I am not sure whether he would be receptive.”

“You can but try.”

“I know.” He sits down in a chair. “How is it that you’re so much wiser than me?”

“I had the best example. And I have the benefit of being the fairer sex and having more opportunity for observation.”

“A damn shame. I know that you would take the world by storm if you could.”

“The world isn’t ready.”

Hannibal laughs. He can imagine exactly how much havoc Mischa could wreck on the world and be able to change it for the better. Especially with her tenacity and her strong sense of morals.

“I will talk to him. Maybe in a few days, to see how we get on first.”

“Sometimes you really are a coward you know? The attraction is quite obviously there, so I don’t know why you are not acting on it.”

Hannibal sighs, he wishes sometimes that Mischa was a little less insightful. She is right of course, the attraction is there, but what he isn’t certain of is whether it is reciprocated. 

“You know my trepidation.”

“I do, and I understand your concern, as the ramifications could be so great for you. But I get the sense from Will that he would be receptive.”

“That is possible."

“So what have you got to lose?” Mischa reaches for his hand and squeezes it. “And I can see the pain that you are in for not saying anything.”

“Fine, I will talk to him tonight.”

She smiles and returns to finance ledger. He has always admired her ability to refocus her attention so quickly; as far as she is concerned he will be talking to Will later and confessing to him. Her confidence in his potential ability to charm Will far surpasses his own.

Hannibal has little to do, the troupe has already gotten everything done for the evening. A knock on the door breaks him out of his rumination. He opens the door and finds Tobias and Franklyn, who looks upset and is shooting glares at Tobias and Hannibal in turn. Hannibal suppresses the chuckle he wants to let out. Franklyn has for the longest time had an infatuation with Hannibal. He is sure that the man is resenting all the effort Hannibal is putting in for Will, and that Tobias is helping him.

They make an odd pair, but it does give Hannibal an idea. “Are you ready?”

“We are indeed,” Tobias says.

He follows them out of the office, and around the Big Top. He is glad for the short walk to clear his head a little and to formulate a plan. When he reaches the small tent he is surprised at how beautifully it has been decorated. A sign proclaims the service of a medium, nothing too twee, and he likes that and is sure that Will will like it too. And that is what he is really concerned with. 

Hannibal follows them into the tent. He is impressed with the way that they have decorated; they have used the exact colours he had wanted, the shades of blues he had picked out. He knows that they will complement Will perfectly, bringing out the blues of his eyes and his skin tone. Hannibal can picture him so clearly in this tent communing with the dead on the behest of everyone who enters his realm. 

Tobias gives him a few moments to look around before taking him further into a small side room where there is enough space for Will to change and prepare everything for his customers. Hannibal is impressed with Tobias’ foresight. “This is great. Thank you, to the both of you.”

“Thank you. We hope it meets your impossibly high standards.” By the slight uptick in Tobias’ voice he can tell the man is partly joking.

“You have exceeded them,” Hannibal says after a moment.

“Well then, I’m glad.” Tobias turns to Franklyn. “Most of this was your work, so take the praise.”

Franklyn smiles shyly. He flushes and gives Tobias a small smile. “Thank you, Tobias.” He pauses and turns to Hannibal. “Thank you to you too.”

Hannibal smiles. He thinks it will be easy to convince the two of their match to each other.

“We will leave you to it,” Tobias says after a beat. Hannibal only nods and watches them for long moments. He checks his pocket watch; he has about 10 minutes before Will is due to arrive. 

Carefully he lights all of the candles that are dotted around the room. He considers whether he has any incense in the office. He does think that Will might have incense as part of his toolkit, sure that the women that Will holds seances for insist on it.

After looking around the tent one final time, he exits. He hopes that Will likes his tent, because if nothing else he hopes that their partnership will be fruitful and fulfilling for both of them. He is unable to find any incense in his office but it does fill the remaining minutes until Will is back. 

Mischa would laugh at him, the fact that he is so desperate to see Will again. It’s how easy conversation flows with the man, his wit is undeniable. His heartbeat is so loud in his ears that he almost misses the knock on his door. 

When he opens the door it is Will who is smiling in that crooked way he does. “Hello,” he says after a beat. There is restrained excitement in his eyes and Hannibal hopes the tent meets his expectations. 

“Are you ready?”

“I am indeed. Lead the way.”

Hannibal walks past Will and into the cool evening air. The sun has almost disappeared over the horizon and the lights have been lit, giving the entire plot a soft glow. 

“I hope we don’t disappoint,” Hannibal says when Will is next to him as they walk. 

“If it is half as good as the sketch then I’m sure it will be great.”

Hannibal hums. In his opinion, the tent is perfect, but he is finding more and more that Will is unpredictable. It makes him feel a little like he is slightly on the wrong foot. Almost everyone else he can read easily and predict their actions, but Will is different to everyone else, and that fact excites him. 

When they reach the tent Will whistles. “Your team were able to put this together in one day?”

“They work miracles, I’m sure,” Hannibal concedes. 

“They really do. The sign is perfect, not too ostentatious.”

“I thought you wouldn’t want something that screamed the purpose. You want to intrigue people enough that they feel compelled to come find you. Leave them wanting.”

Will chuckles. “For someone who has only known me just shy of a day, you know me far too well.”

“I don’t think I know you that well. There is more of you to discover. And I am intent on discovering more.”

Will hums, and when Hannibal turns to him he can see the way he is looking at him. He isn’t quite sure what the emotion in his face is, but it makes his own face heat up. The depth of his own feelings surprises him, he is not one to usually find someone so fascinating so quickly.

“So do you want to have a look inside?”

“I would love to.”

Hannibal pulls back the tent flap and lets Will go first. He follows behind him, keen to see Will’s reaction first hand.

Will is stood right in front of the table, looking around. Hannibal was right, in the surrounding candlelight surrounding and the blue silks, he looks resplendent. His eyes are wide as he takes in every detail. Hannibal is content watching Will and waiting for his reaction, even though he is anxious to hear exactly what he is thinking.

After long moments Will turns to him. There are tears shining in his eyes and he looks awestruck. 

“Hannibal, it’s perfect. Better than anything I could have imagined, and your sketch was already incredibly beautiful.”

Hannibal smiles and wants to say something until Will steps close to him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and then Will is kissing him. He is too shocked to respond immediately, but after a few moments he is kissing Will back.

Will tastes like smoke and sweet wine that only barely covers his unique taste. Hannibal thinks he might quickly become addicted to it. They break apart and Hannibal’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. He feels like the air has left the room and when he looks at Will he looks as breathless as he feels. Will is smiling broadly. 

“I’ve wanted to do that since you approached me.”

Hannibal smiles. “I’ve thought about it since I spotted you in that crowded room, but I couldn’t have predicted this outcome. But as I’m coming to learn, you are unpredictable.”

Will laughs at that. “I don’t know about unpredictable, you have managed to understand me and everything I could want.”

He takes one of Hannibal’s hands and squeezes it gently. Will’s hands are soft and gentle, but display a strength in him that he wasn’t expecting but finds himself enjoying. 

“So can I see that wonderful show of yours?”

“We have about 30 minutes before the show, but I need to get ready. If you speak to Beverly she will be able to get you seated.”

“I hate to leave.”

“I don’t want you to. But I am sure I would be too distracted to get ready.”

Will laughs. “Maybe another time.”

Hannibal watches as Will leaves and then walks back to his office. It is only then that he realises how much his heart was racing. He dresses quickly into his outfit. Nervousness is beginning to spread through him. Hannibal is never nervous, but knowing that Will is in the audience makes him feel like he needs to step up. 

When he finishes getting dressed, he walks over to the dressing room where the troupe is getting ready. Beverly approaches him with a smile. The smile is knowing and can only be described as a smirk. 

“So.”

“So what?”

“Will liked the tent?” 

“That he did.”

“That wasn’t all though was it?”

“We shall see.”

Beverly laughs. “Come now Hannibal, don’t be coy.” 

“I’m only being coy because I want to see where this goes.”

Beverly squeezes his arm and gives him a sad nod. “Just be careful.”

“I will.”

“I know, but still.”

He smiles at her. He knows that even in spite of wanting to take Will out in public they would need to be very discreet. Hannibal knows that she understands more than most. 

Then a bell sounds and Hannibal knows that the show is about to start. He looks in one of the mirrors in the backstage area, adjusts his hat quickly and takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. 

With one final breath he walks into the ring. The spotlight almost blinds him, but he is used to it. He searches the crowd and then he sees Will. Instantly he feels at ease. 

The speakerphone is thrown to him, and he catches it to applause. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, be prepared for the show of your life.” 

A low percussion sets in and Hannibal says, “Prepare to be amazed as you are witness to the wonder of Hannibal Lecter’s Cabinet of Curiosities. It is my pleasure to give you the Bearded Lady.”

Cheers erupt in the crowd as the spotlight on him is extinguished and one appears on Alana. She is wearing a magnificent gown of purple, she has coiffed her hair and her beard has been oiled so it shines. 

He can sense the anticipation in the crowd as they watch her, then she begins to sing and it is like they are raptured. Her voice is truly stunning, and he knows that reviews other than Chilton’s have mentioned that she sings like a nightingale. 

With a final lingering note Alana finishes her song, and the crowd erupts into applause. He looks over to Will who meets his eyes for a moment, he looks happy. It fills Hannibal with renewed energy and he strides back into the ring.

“Wasn’t she fantastic? But that is not all we have to show you. Ladies and gentlemen, you are in for a real treat. Get ready for Mr and Mr Fantastic.”

Jimmy and Brian walk out into the ring. The audience spend most of their set in both laughter and slight disgust. He knows that Brian’s ability to stretch his skin to almost unbelievable distances is unusual, but he also knows that audiences love to be both disgusted and made to laugh in equal measure. And Jimmy and Brian definitely deliver on this. 

During the set, Hannibal climbs up into the scaffolding. When Brian and Jimmy leave the ring he can tell that the audience are confused as to his disappearance. The spotlight hits him again and there are a few gasps and screams from below them.

“I give you the Daring Beverly, who has freed herself from the constraints of gravity.” A dramatic drumroll starts her routine. She flies out over the audience on the trapeze; it is so thin that it almost looks like she is actually able to fly.

He clambers down the scaffolding whilst the audience are distracted. Hannibal enjoys the audience’s reaction because they are completely transported. He reaches the ring, and hides in the shadows watching the audience with rapt attention. 

Will is transfixed on Beverly, and Hannibal enjoys watching the curve of his neck; he commits the sight to memory so that he can sketch it later. Something about Will looks like a Botticelli that should be in a museum, because his beauty is so breathtaking. 

The audience scream and Hannibal knows that Beverly is in the finale of her set, she has let go of the trapeze and is now falling. She always times the fall perfectly so that she can grab onto the trapeze as she falls, seemingly rescuing herself. Of course there is a net that would prevent a fall should she miss, but she knows exactly what she is doing.

The audience jump to their feet with wild cheers and claps. Slowly the trapeze lowers until Beverly is able to jump to the ground, and she bows. Hannibal is glad that she decided to audition, as she is a crowd pleaser. 

He runs back into the ring and hugs her close. “Wasn’t that something awe-inspiring?”

The audience are cheering and with a smile he hushes them. He catches sight of Will, who gives him a smile. Hannibal winks at him.

“Last but certainly not least, I give you Chiyoh.”

A box is wheeled into the ring on a pedestal and Hannibal steps out. A spotlight is left on the box and he can almost feel the anticipation in the tent. It feels like everyone is holding their breath.

The lid of the box opens slightly and a hand undoes the clasp. The sides of the box fall away revealing Chiyoh contorted to fit inside the box, he can feel the way the audience start to breathe again. Slowly she unwinds until she is stood on the pedestal. The audience cheer. 

Slowly, to the beat of the drum, Chiyoh demonstrates how she is able to go beyond the normal limits of the human body to contort into different impossible positions. Like Beverly she has the audience transfixed. 

Towards the end she contorts herself again and begins to redo the box, and Hannibal steps back into the ring and redoes the clasp. The box is wheeled away. The audience jump to their feet again, and cheers and applause ring out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank you for coming tonight. Please feel free to wander around the plot and marvel at the human condition. From tomorrow on, we will have an extra special tent for you to explore. You will have the opportunity to reach out to the beyond.”

He gestures to behind him and his troupe walk out into the ring to thunderous applause. “We at Hannibal Lecter’s Cabinet of Curiosities want to thank you for your company, and we look forward to seeing you again.”

They take a bow and run into the backstage area. Hannibal listens as the crowd begins to disperse and out into the open. He turns to his troupe and gathers them all close. “You were all magnificent. Absolutely superb, you get better every time.”

They clap his back and begin to disperse too, in order to walk amongst the crowd, allowing them to talk and interact with them directly. He hopes that they feel better here than in other curiosity cabinets, as any interaction is more on their own terms and they are not just stood there to be gawked at.

A presence at his shoulder makes him turn around. Stood just behind him is Will, who looks happy. “That was incredible.”

“It’s all in the troupe, this would be nothing without them.”

Will nods slightly and says, “You keep it all together and give it a direction.”

“Thank you, you are too kind.”

Hannibal looks around them to make sure they are alone before stepping close to Will and kissing him.

Will tastes like candied apples, and Hannibal is quickly becoming addicted to the way that the foods Will eats complement the way he tastes. Hannibal winds a hand into Will’s hair and pulls slightly, and Will moans into the kiss. Will’s arms wind themselves around him and pull him even closer.

Every part of him where he is touching Will feels like it is alight with fire, he feels drunk. They break apart gently, both panting heavily. Will touches his lips, which are swollen and red. Reflexively Hannibal licks his own lips, not missing the way Will’s eyes follow the motion with a heated look. After a few breaths Will pulls him close to kiss him again. 

Someone clears their throat behind them and they spring apart. Hannibal turns around and sees Mischa and Beverly. They both have wide grins on their faces. He looks to Will who is flushed red. Mischa claps Hannibal’s arm and says, “You might want to take this somewhere less public.”

“Yep, you definitely should. Besides, I wanted to show Mischa a new routine.” Beverly adds and she smiles at Mischa who giggles. Hannibal gives Mischa a look, and she gives him a withering look that he understands completely. It tells him that she doesn’t want him to say anything in that moment. 

“You’re probably right,” Will says after a moment. “I have an idea about where to go.”

Hannibal turns to Will and gives him a questioning look. “Show me the way.”

Will takes Hannibal’s hand and gently pulls him out of the backstage area and to the front of the tent. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Beverly begin to dance around Mischa whilst holding silks that are hung from the balustrades of the tent. Mischa looks transfixed and it fills Hannibal with joy, she deserves happiness and it looks like Mischa is experiencing it with Beverly. 

He turns fully to Will who gives him a knowing look, and Hannibal gives his hand a squeeze. When they reach the entrance they carefully let go of each other’s hand. Will places a hand at the small of Hannibal’s back and gently steers him towards the exit of the plot. The hand on his back feels like a brand and he curses the layers of clothing that separate their skin. He desperately wants to feel every inch of Will, the anticipation in him is building and it makes him feel a little giddy. 

Their pace is brisk and very soon they reach a townhouse only a few streets away from the pitch. “You’ve been to the cabinet before, haven’t you?”

Will laughs. “I have, it was just around the corner and I have always loved the circus.”

“And what did you think?”

“I loved it. I visited as often as I could. You were, and still are, magnificent. So when you approached me it was like a twist of fate.”

“I can’t believe I missed you. I would have found you earlier.”

“It is just how it was meant to be.”

Hannibal hums in thought. “Now, you mentioned something about knowing somewhere more private.”

Will nods and drags him inside the house after unlocking the door. Once the door is shut behind them, Will pushes him against the door to kiss him. This kiss is hungry and Hannibal can feel arousal begin to curl in his belly. Something in Will awakens a long slumbering ravenous hunger in him.

Will pushes a leg between Hannibal’s and it brushes over Hannibal’s hard cock. He moans into Will’s mouth, who chuckles. He breaks them apart and licks his lips, and Hannibal watches the motion closely. Will’s lips are swollen and slightly bruised. Hannibal brushes a thumb against them and Will’s tongue darts out. Hannibal makes a small sound and Will’s grin turns almost feral.

He sucks Hannibal’s thumb into his mouth, the heat and pressure on his thumb spirals his arousal further, he is desperate to get his mouth and hands on every inch of Will’s skin. Will smiles around his thumb like he knows exactly what Hannibal is thinking.

Will releases his thumb and takes Hannibal’s hand in his again. “Follow me.”

He leads him upstairs. Hannibal looks around as he travels up the stairs. The house is sparsely decorated, it suits Will. It feels homely even in spite of it. There is fishing equipment dotted around the hallway. “You fish?”

“On occasion. I find that when I am able to wade into a stream and be surrounded by the quiet of my own thoughts, it’s like everything else melts away.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“I could take you some time.”

“I would love to join you. But I’m not sure that I will be particularly good at it.”

“I very much doubt that. If memory serves correctly you are quite a dab hand at sewing, so you have steady hands.”

“You’ve done your research.”

“I like to know who I’m going into business with,” Will says with a smile. “Besides, I find you very interesting.” He purrs the last word. 

Hannibal kisses Will right there in the hallway. He feels drunk on the taste of Will. Hannibal has one hand in Will’s hair, he is tugging gently and Will moans into his mouth. Will breaks them apart and he is panting heavily. Hannibal feels just as breathless. Arousal and anticipation curl higher and higher in his stomach. 

“Bed. Now.” Will grinds out after a moment, one hand playing with Hannibal’s tie. Hannibal nods shortly and Will pulls him up the rest of the stairs and then into a room.

Like the rest of the house he has seen so far, it is sparsely decorated, but cosier than the other parts he has seen. The bed is the focal point of the room, dark wood posts and light sheets. Will pulls him to the bed and then pulls Hannibal on top of him. 

Hannibal falls on top of him with a grunt and Will laughs. Will leans up to kiss him, and begins to undo Hannibal’s tie. Hannibal reaches up to help him and then throws the offending piece of material away from them. Hannibal sits up to straddle Will’s hips. He can feel Will’s hard cock through his trousers. He can’t wait to have Will naked beneath him and writhing in pleasure. 

Slowly he unbuttons his waistcoat and shirt. Will surges upwards to kiss him, his hands roaming over every exposed inch of skin as it is revealed. The articles of clothing are discarded on the floor, and then Hannibal begins to unbutton Will’s shirt. 

Will’s skin is ivory white with a flushed chest that is heaving with deep breaths. He is warm to the touch and Hannibal wants to whisper words of worship into each inch of skin. Will smiles at him softly, almost like he knows what he is thinking in that moment. 

Hannibal pushes the shirt down Will’s shoulders until he is able to slip out of the sleeves. He pulls out the material from underneath Will, it is still warm. Hannibal resists the urge to smell the shirt. If it were possible he would spend hours trying to catalogue every single note of Will’s scent.

He thumbs over a nipple and Will gasps. Pleased with the reaction, Hannibal pinches the nipple and Will groans beneath him. Hannibal grins at him and lowers his mouth to Will’s chest. Like he expected, Will’s skin tastes like heaven. He sucks the nipple into his mouth, his teeth teasing at the nub. Will bucks his hips upwards and it almost unseats Hannibal. Will is breathing heavily beneath him, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets. 

Hannibal releases the nipple from his mouth. It is marked with the imprints of his teeth, and judging by the way the marks are bright red, they will bruise nicely. The idea that Will will carry bruises that he made makes him feel very possessive. He blows over the saliva slick skin and Will’s skin pebbles. His moans have become high-pitched and Hannibal wonders if there is a way to compose music that fully captures the sounds Will is making. 

He moves his attention to Will’s other nipple, giving it the same attention until both have matching bruises. Slowly he sits up to admire his handiwork. Will is looking at him with awe tinged with lust in his eyes. Hannibal kisses him until he can feel his heartbeat thumping in his ears and he pulls back to catch his breath. 

Slowly he unbuttons Will’s trousers. The heat radiating from Will makes Hannibal want to touch every inch of him. He gets off of Will to help shimmy the garment down over his hips and off his legs. He throws the offending fabric to the floor. Will is beneath him now in only his underwear. A dark spot is growing at the front. He can smell Will fully now, and Hannibal feels drunk with it. He takes off his own trousers, pulling down the underwear with them, until he is fully nude. Will is watching him with hungry eyes, a pink tongue wetting his red lips. Hannibal almost growls before covering Will again to kiss him. 

His cock drags along the fabric of Will’s underwear and the friction is delightful. Hannibal begins to slowly pull the garment down his slim hips. He follows the path that is revealed with small licks and nips that have Will squirming beneath him. 

When Will’s cock is revealed Hannibal ghosts kisses down the shaft. Will whines, he is leaking steadily, and Hannibal delights in the bitterness he tastes. Once he has Will completely naked he looks his fill, until the breathy noises coming from Will make the urge to touch far stronger than his urge to memorise every single line and arch that Will makes with the twists and turns of his body. 

Will grabs hold of his hands and pulls him down on top of him. Hannibal can feel Will’s heartbeat thrumming next to his, and it’s comforting in a way that makes him feel safer than he has in a long time. 

He kisses Will. He loves the way that Will opens up for him, allowing him to explore every part of him. They kiss until Hannibal begins to see black spots at the edges of his vision, and gently he pulls back until he is just touching Will’s forehead with his, breathing heavily. He likes this too, being able to share Will’s breath, even with the wrecked noises Will is making which drive him to distraction. 

Hannibal can feel hands beginning to wander down his back and grab hold of his arse. Will pulls him closer, urging Hannibal to rock against him. With the way that Will is leaking, the slide against his cock is almost smooth. He groans into the space between them. Will nips at his lips and he grins. Hannibal responds by gently pulling at Will’s hair. The reaction he gets is worth it as Will arches his neck. 

He can’t let the opportunity pass by and bites the hollow of his neck, sucking a dark bruise there; he knows that Will will have to wear his shirts fully buttoned to cover the mark. Will grinds up against him, the noises he is making now so breathy that they are difficult to hear. 

Slowly Hannibal sits up, his heart almost breaking with the noise of fear that Will makes. The noise quiets with the touch of Hannibal’s hand against his cheek. “Give me a moment to fetch something,” Hannibal says, surprised how wrecked he himself sounds. He realises then that he had been matching each of Will’s noises with one of his own.

Hannibal climbs off the bed to retrieve something from his trousers. There tucked into his waistcoat is the glass vial. He is glad that it had not shattered when he had discarded the item. “Do you need anything?” Will asks. He too has sat up. From his position crouched on the floor Hannibal looks up and is struck by Will’s beauty. His hair is haloing his flushed face. 

“I’ve got everything I need now,” Hannibal says. Will smiles at him in a way that makes Hannibal know that Will knows exactly what he truly means. Hannibal clambers back onto the bed and sits in front of Will. He passes over the vial to Will, who considers it.

Hannibal kisses Will gently after a few moments. “Are you unsure about something?”

“No, that’s not it. I just have never met someone quite so considerate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not everybody is quite as prepared as you.” Will seems reluctant to go on. But Hannibal knows what he means, there is a rage that builds in him. “Don’t think about it, Hannibal. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

Hannibal smiles softly and Will kisses him gently. Quickly the kiss turns desperate and Will unstoppers the vial carefully. Hannibal reach a hand to help Will, who gently pushes his hand away slightly. Hannibal only makes a questioning sound, and Will smiles.

He drops some of the substance on Hannibal’s fingers, gently spreading the substance over all of his fingers until they are slick. Will kisses him again before he lies back against the pillows. Hannibal follows him until he’s lying half across him. Will takes his wrist and guides it to his entrance. Hannibal catches his eye and Will gives him a hungry look. “I want to know what you feel like,” Will says, and Hannibal knows he is absolutely sure of that fact. 

He gently circles the ring of muscle, spreading the slick substance around. He is gentle and Will sucks in a breath. Hannibal chuckles, enjoying the way the muscle jumps beneath his fingers. He pushes the tip of one finger in, and Will moans loudly. He is liquid heat around his finger, and Hannibal feels the throb in his cock. Hannibal is torn between drawing this out for Will or pushing inside him as soon as possible. 

He pushes the digit in until he can’t get any further. He spreads the substance around as much as possible. As he pulls out his finger, and just before he slips out completely Will clenches around him. He can feel another droplet of pre-come ooze out of him. He pushes in a second digit with the first and Will growls. It is the single most erotic thing he has heard in a long time. 

With his fingers he searches until he finds the slightly swollen bundle of nerves. He brushes over it and Will’s hips rise up off the bed. Hannibal uses his free hand to hold Will down. Based on the redness of his hips, Will will be wearing bruises for at least a week. Hannibal pulls out his finger and Will whines at the loss. His hole is glistening with the oil, and Hannibal reaches for the vial again. 

He coats his fingers with more of the oil before he pushes in three digits. Will is shaking his head slowly, his hair rustling against the pillow. Hannibal stops the motion of his hand and looks up at Will who only smiles. His eyes are slightly unfocused, and there is only a ring of blue left in his eyes

“Don’t stop,” Will grinds out. “In fact, you’re not doing enough.” 

“Am I not?” Hannibal asks innocently, as he presses once again against Will’s prostate. Will gasps and Hannibal grins. 

“Hannibal-” Will finishes his name in a moan. Hannibal lets up the pressure. “I want you inside me.”

Hannibal can’t help the way his spare hand digs into Will’s hips.

He pulls out his fingers and uses the remaining oil on them to coat his cock. The slight friction and pressure along his cock makes the muscles in his stomach clench with anticipation. Hannibal shifts on the bed, until he’s kneeling between Will’s spread legs. He pushes them apart further until Will gasps again, and this time he can hear the slightest hint of pain at the end of the noise. 

He guides his cock to Will’s arse until he can thrust along the cleft. Will’s breath hitches each time the head of his cock catches against the rim. Teasing them both for long moments, Hannibal uses the opportunity to catalogue the way pleasure moves and contorts Will’s face. Then only when he can tell that Will is near incoherent with desperation does he push into Will.

Every inch that he sinks into Will is like heaven, he is like a vice of heat around him. Will is breathing heavily, each exhale ends with a noise. Only when Hannibal feels his hips touch Will’s arse does he stop. He can feel from the way his chest is heaving that he too is breathing heavily, sweat beading on his forehead. 

It feels like the world has stopped, and all that is left is the two of them and the place where they are joined. Hannibal wants this moment to last forever, it is an experience that he never wants to end.

In the end it is his own body that betrays him; his hips rock forward of their own volition. Will makes a sound as though the air had been punched out of his lungs.

He is rocking gently. Will is still tight around him, but he can feel the moment that he relaxes, because he can pull almost all the way out. He thrusts back in quickly, and Will groans. His hands scrabble for purchase on this sheets before he reaches up until one of his hands is over Hannibal’s heart. His fingers wind into the hair there and tug slightly, and Hannibal groans slightly. The pain is a welcome distraction, because even after being inside Will for such a short amount of time, he feels close to coming. 

Hannibal leans forward until he can kiss Will. Will kisses back enthusiastically, his tongue teasing at the seam of his lips, before he draws back to nip playfully at his lip.The new position means that he is able to elongate his thrusts. Setting an almost punishing pace, Will’s hands move until they are on his back, beginning to scratch down as he holds on. Hannibal knows that he will be marked by Will just as he has marked Will. 

He can feel Will’s cock trapped between them like a brand. Each time he thrusts it moves between them. From the way Will punctuates each thrust with a moan and the way he is clenching around him, he knows that Will is close. 

Hannibal feels drunk with the spiralling pleasure coiling inside him and being surrounded by Will. Will is chanting his name like a prayer. One hand is in the sheets, clenching so hard that his knuckles are white, the other is holding onto one of Hannibal’s shoulders, pulling him closer. His ankles are crossed over behind Hannibal, the heels digging into his arse and encouraging him to continue. 

Will clenches around him almost painfully and comes with a groan. Hannibal can feel hot liquid spill between them. His lips are on Will’s throat, all he can smell is Will and him together. It sets off Hannibal’s orgasm, and he spills deep inside Will with Will’s name on his lips. 

They are both panting heavily, and Will looks at him fondly, and kisses him gently. Hannibal is sure that he will never tire of kissing Will. Once he can feel his heart begin to slow he sits up slowly, trying to stay inside Will for as long as possible. After a moment he slips out of him, a dribble of come follows him and his cock twitches slightly at the sight. Will huffs a laugh, and pats the bed next to him.

Hannibal lies down next to him on his side, watching Will. The man looks utterly debauched, come is splattered across his flushed heaving chest. Hannibal draws lazy circles in the mess. 

Will chuckles and Hannibal joins him laughter. After long moments, Will reaches into the bedside table and takes out a handkerchief. He cleans himself up before balling it up and throwing it on the floor. Hannibal wrinkles his nose slightly, and Will laughs again. Hannibal loves the way it brightens Will’s face. 

He curls into Hannibal’s side and rests his head just under Hannibal’s chin. Hannibal smells Will’s hair; Hannibal is almost addicted to the way his soap complements his own unique scent.

“Did you just smell me?”

“Difficult to avoid.”

Will just hums happily. He moves up slightly to pull the duvet over the two of them before curling back around Hannibal. His breathing begins to slow and Hannibal curls his arms around Will. He begins to imagine their life together at the cabinet. Soon Hannibal joins him in sleep. 

***

They wake still curled around each other. It’s the stirrings of the sun that awaken them, in their haste to explore each other they had forgotten to draw the curtains. 

Will’s curls are flattened, and Hannibal chuckles slightly. Will flushes and begins to play with his curls. 

“Do you have anything to make breakfast?”

As if on cue Will’s stomach rumbles. “I may have a few things.”

“Good.” 

Slowly they get up. Will winces as he sits up, at Hannibal’s concerned look he only laughs. 

“Nothing to be concerned about, just a little sore.” 

Hannibal hums and slowly pulls on his underwear and his shirt. He can’t help but watch him hungrily as he dresses, there is something incredibly arousing about watching Will move.

Will leads him out of the room and down the stairs. The kitchen he takes him to is small but cosy. Hannibal can’t quite decide whether he wants Will to stay in this house or live with him. He wonders if that is too presumptive, conscious that they have only known each other a short amount of time. Will looks at him like he knows exactly what Hannibal is thinking.

“What do you have in?” Hannibal asks after a moment. 

“I have some eggs and possibly some cream. But to be honest I’m not entirely sure. You’re welcome to look through the pantry.”

“Very well, a challenge it is,” Hannibal says with a laugh.

“Can I leave you alone for the moment? I need to go check on the garden.”

“You have a garden?”

“Just a small bed, where I grow some vegetables. Did you want to see?”

“Lead the way.”

Will takes him through the other door of the kitchen and out into the opening. The chill of the autumn air is biting after the warmth of the kitchen. Hannibal is suddenly acutely aware of the fact that is not wearing anything aside from his shirt and underwear. He looks to Will, who is looking at him fondly. Once again he is surprised by the way that Will is able to read him so easily, he never before would have considered himself an open book. But it seems as though Will is able to decipher him.

He looks at the bed that Will is pointing at. He had been modest, the bed is clearly defined in the small garden and takes up about three quarters of the space. Hannibal can identify carrots easily, as well as rhubarb. 

“I see carrots and rhubarb, what else are you cultivating?”

“I have an apple tree and a cherry tree. The apples are nearly ready to pick, but the cherries won’t be ready until the summer. The potatoes are nearly ready too, an experiment I had started this year. They are much more work than I had anticipated. You can’t see them at the moment, but I will have strawberries in the summer.”

“An impressive feat.”

Will flushes. Hannibal can tell that he is unused to praise, and Hannibal feels anger in him that there has never been anyone to shower him with the praise he so desperately deserves. The only thing soothing his anger is the knowledge that he will be rectifying that.

“Is there something that you want me to pick for breakfast?”

“A few apples will do. Even if they are slightly unripe. I think for what I have in mind it will do.”

Will nods. “Did you want to wait until I have them picked?”

“I would enjoy that greatly. I like watching you move.”

Will flushes again at Hannibal’s unabashed words.

He mutters something under his breath that Hannibal can’t quite make out. But he lets it go, sensing that Will needs a little space. He is surprised when Will walks up to him and kisses him chastely before draping the jacket he is wearing over his shoulders. 

At Hannibal’s questioning look, Will mumbles, “You’re wearing less than I am.”

Hannibal pulls the jacket closed as much as possible. Whilst Will is only an inch or so shorter, his shoulders are narrower than his. Although judging by the way that the jacket almost fits him, Will has not had this suit well-tailored, an oversight he will mend. He considers how to broach the subject as he watches Will go to a small shed just beside the house. He returns with a ladder that looks solid, if a little old. 

He carries the ladder to the closer of the two trees, heavy with red jewels of fruit. Will is intent in his search, weighing each fruit in his hand. When he finds one that passes muster, he pulls gently until he has the apple in his hand. Even from his position near the house, Hannibal can see the smile that graces Will’s features; it is infectious, and Hannibal can feel an answering smile pull across his face.

Just before the cold almost begins to hurt his bare legs and face, Will returns to him. He is holding three apples that must have come from the garden of Eden itself, so tempting are they in their lustre and colour.

“Will these do?”

“These are perfect, like they come from the Tree of Knowledge itself.”

“That comes dangerously close to blasphemy.”

“Are we not committing acts of blasphemy with our lives?”

Will considers this. “I suppose.”

“God made us in his image, but in doing so gave us the gift of free will. So any acts of sin should surely be seen as godlike?”

Will laughs. “Now that is truly blasphemy.”

“Sin is always a virtue. After all, it is in pursuit of a higher calling.

“You are a hedonist.”

Hannibal hums. “That I am. And I think based on my current state of undress, you can find yourself persuaded in that direction, too.”

“You have me all figured out, don’t you?”

“Oh my cunning boy, there are hidden depths to you that it would take me a lifetime to explore.” 

Will’s smile fades. “Is that your intention? A lifetime?”

“If you are amenable?” Hannibal’s voice is low. He is desperate for his answer, feeling suddenly uncertain. 

Will considers for long moments. “Against my better judgement perhaps, but I find myself greedy for your company.”

Hannibal can’t help himself, he pulls Will close and kisses him deeply. It is charged with heat, and if it weren’t for Will’s rumbling stomach, he would have dragged him to the nearest horizontal surface to have him incoherent with pleasure again. 

Will laughs as he breaks away, patting his stomach. “Pesky little thing, needs.”

Hannibal hums thoughtfully. “Well, let me meet one, and then the other.”

Will grins and follows Hannibal back into the kitchen. Once inside the heated room, Hannibal can feel the warmth begin to seep back into his bones, tingling along his spine just as much as the arousal that coils low inside of him. 

“Can I help?”

“You can start by washing the apples, and then peeling and slicing them. I will see what else I can find in this pantry.”

Will laughs. “Well I bid you good luck. I am not entirely sure that it will be as well stocked as yours undoubtedly is.”

“It wasn’t always that way. “

The grin falls from his face. “Hannibal, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, it was my own stubbornness that led me down that path.”

“Still, it isn’t good. I know hunger intimately. My mother died when I was young and my father couldn’t cope. We ended up in one of those poorhouses.”

Hannibal makes a disgusted face Many of his performers had spent time there. 

“But now you’re here.”

Will smiles sadly. “And now I’m here. Everything I hated about it made me into a better medium. I learnt to read people and give them the answers they wanted.”

Hannibal hums in thought. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t make the institution any better.”

“You are right of course,” Will says after a beat.

“Now shall I make us some breakfast?”

In answer Will's stomach rumbles. 

“I suppose that answers that question.”

Will laughs. He picks up the apples he had left on the counter, and takes out a chopping board. He leaves a drawer open for Hannibal, who is surprised by the number of utensils Will has on hand.

“One lady gifted these after a seance.” 

“I’m suitably impressed, and that is a story you must tell me another time.”

“I shall.”

Hannibal smiles, he likes the promise of a future. “Where do I find this pantry of yours?”

“It’s the door next to the stairs.”

“Thank you.”

He walks out of the kitchen and into the hallway. It is good to see the house when he is not concerned with having Will naked and writhing in pleasure. The hallway, like the other glimpses he had seen, is kept in light colours; it seems that Will had not succumbed to the trend in gaudy wallpaper. He finds the door easily, just tucked away at the end of the hallway. 

Entering, he is assaulted with the smell of food. It is better stocked than most people’s pantries. Will has accumulated a large amount of jams and marmalades, based on the painstaking labels all made by hand from the glut of fruits from his garden. He does find eggs nestled in a box padded with hay. He scans the neatly stocked shelves until he finds flour and sugar. 

Right at the very end, in the coolest place, he finds yeast. He considers his hoard that he is carrying, he has the beginnings of crumpets in his hands. Going back into the kitchen he asks Will, “Do you have milk delivered?”

“Hmm?” Will is focussed on the slicing of apples and doesn’t quite hear him.

“Milk deliveries?”

“Oh yes.” Will looks to the clock on the wall. “Should be here by now.”

“Well I could go, but I’m sure that might cause quite the scandal.”

“Why is that?” Will asks as he peels the last apple. The peel drops to the counter, falling neatly into a spiral.

“My state of undress.”

Will looks up at him and over him. His look turns hungry and then he flushes, as though he realises the obvious track that his mind had gone on. 

“Right. Let me go.”

Hannibal makes room for Will, who walks out of the room, his face still red. Hannibal preens at the obvious way that Will desires him. Trying to distract himself he begins to set out the ingredients, checking the cabinets in the kitchen until he finds a pair of scales. They look ancient but reliable enough for his purposes. Once he has gathered all the equipment in the room, he begins weighing out the floor and sugar. He sifts the flour until it is free from lumps, slightly surprised how long Will is taking.

He makes his way to the front door, where he finds Will with a bottle of milk in one hand and the paper in the other. He is stockstill reading the paper, his face contorted in anger at what he is reading.

“Something the matter?”

“It’s Chilton.”

The name sends a shiver of displeasure down his spine. If there was ever a man that Hannibal dislikes as much as Chilton, he has yet to meet him.

He swallows around the lump of dread in his throat. “What has he written now?”

Will begins reading.

“News has reached me,  _ dear readers _ ,” Will says with derision, “that a certain high-society darling, Will Graham, has joined Lecter’s freak show. Offering his services to commune with the departed. Never has this writer heard something quite so preposterous and perverted. Is there no depths to which Lecter won’t sink? I for one will not be entertaining the notion that something as sacred as death can be disturbed by freaks any longer, and ask you to join me in a boycott.”

Hannibal rubs at his eyes and sighs, “Chilton is a nasty little ferret.”

“That he is indeed. Do you think that it will harm this evening?”

“Strangely, no. I think people will be more intrigued and fascinated. Besides, you know how much people will seek out the morbid.”

“You’re right, of course.” He passes the milk over to Hannibal. “Now, you were making breakfast.”

Hannibal laughs. “I am a slave to your wants and needs.”

Will shuts the door behind him and kisses him. “And I am yours to do with what you please.”

“That is a dangerous proposition to make,” Hannibal says darkly. “You may never be leaving the house again.”

Will smiles and practically purrs, “I should hope not.”

Hannibal is thoroughly enchanted by Will. How is it that the man has so quickly captured him? He is sure that he would be crushed if Will found something else or someone else that captured his attention. Will squeezes his free hand as if he knows exactly what Hannibal is thinking. He pulls his hand up and presses a kiss against the back of it. Hannibal feels warmth spread through him.

They return the kitchen and Hannibal takes the sliced apples and places then into a pot with water, cinnamon sticks and sugar. He starts the fire and puts the lid on the pot. Letting the combination simmer, he turns to Will, who is watching him fondly. 

Hannibal smiles and begins to mix the batter for the crumpets. Will approaches him and plasters himself to his back. He is warm against him, and Hannibal hums in happiness. Will nuzzles into his neck and Hannibal can feel his smile. 

”Driving me to distraction will not make breakfast appear any faster.”

Will hums but doesn't move. Hannibal strokes his fingers over Will’s hand that is splayed over his stomach. 

“Do you have any rings?”

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” Will says. 

Hannibal pauses in his mixing. He knows that Will is waiting for his answer. “Do you think it’s too early?”

Will holds him close. “It’s something I could consider.” 

Hannibal smiles. “Then maybe later. But I was referring to serving rings.”

“I know,” Will says with a laugh, “I like seeing you squirm.”

His warmth leaves Hannibal’s back, and he misses it acutely. Hannibal can hear Will rummage in a drawer. After a moment he returns to Hannibal’s back and passes a set of rings to him. Hannibal smiles. They are a little smaller than he would like. 

Hannibal takes the rings and then slowly steps out of Will’s embrace to approach the stove. Hannibal takes the other pan he had found and takes a little butter and places it on the flame. 

Will is next to him and watching him closely. Hannibal finds it incredibly flattering to have Will’s attention so focused on him. 

Once the butter is melted, he places the serving rings into the pan and then pours the batter into them. He watches as the batter bubbles as it cooks. Will’s stomach growls again and he laughs.

“Please tell me food isn’t going to take long?”

“A few more minutes and then they’re done. Let me just check on the applesauce.”

He lifts the lid of the pot and instantly the room is filled with the smell of apples and cinnamon. Will sighs happily. 

“That smells amazing.”

“It’s nearly ready. The apples you had were perfect.” 

“Perfected through your hand.”

“You flatter me.”

“No flattery here, a simple statement of facts.” 

Hannibal smiles and when the top of the crumpets has set he flips them. They sizzle nicely when they hit the hot butter. 

After a few more minutes Hannibal deems that the crumpets are finished and turns off the flames. 

“Could you get some plates?”

“Sure.” Will leaves Hannibal’s side and then returns to his side with two plates. Hannibal takes them with his thanks and then begins to plate the crumpets. He drizzles some of the applesauce over them. Will is watching the plates with rapt attention. Hannibal can tell that Will is starving, and Hannibal himself feels as though he hasn't eaten in days. 

“If you could fetch some cutlery and then take me to the dining room?”

Will smiles and then fetches knives and forks from a drawer and leads Hannibal out of the room. The dining room is small but cosy. A dark table is the focal point of the room, and the chairs look comfortable. He sets down the plates and Will places the cutlery down. 

“Did you want me to fetch some water?” Will asks.

“That would be good. I think that would round everything out nicely.” 

Will leaves and then returns with two glasses filled with water. “I would make tea, but I don’t think I could wait any longer for food.”

“I know what you mean.” Hannibal takes out a chair for Will to sit and then takes his own seat. “Food first and then a good cup of tea to round off the morning.”

Will takes his knife and fork, cutting a small bite. He moans when he eats it, and the sound is so close to the noises he had made last night that Hannibal flushes. He takes his own bite; he was right, the apples are perfect.

“My compliments to the chef,” Will says when he has almost finished the entire plate.

“It was my pleasure, I would be happy to cook something a little more involved for you.”

“I look forward to it. Hopefully you can show me a little of your life,” Will says with a smile. He leans back in his chair, his neck making a beautiful line that makes Hannibal ache to touch. 

Hannibal stands after a moment, and takes their plates. Will makes protesting noises and then stands. “You cooked, it is only fair that I wash up.”

“I am a guest in your house.”

“Exactly, so you deserve to be treated.” The way he says it is almost salacious, the arousal that had been dampened while he was eating making itself known again. 

Will takes the plates from him and takes them to the kitchen, and Hannibal follows him. Hannibal watches as Will places the plates into the sink and then is shocked when Will rounds on him with a glint in his eyes.

Hannibal is surprised when Will pulls him close and kisses him deeply. His cock is hard against Hannibal’s hip. He is even more surprised when Will drops to his knees on the cold hard tiles. Slowly he pulls Hannibal’s underwear down. Under Will’s gaze he hardens fully, he feels hot. Will takes him into his mouth and sucks. 

He groans Will’s name, who hums around him. The vibration sends fissure of pleasure through Hannibal. Will takes one of Hannibal’s hands and places it in his hair, and at Will’s encouraging look he winds his fingers through the strands. Hannibal pulls and Will moans.

He laves Hannibal’s cock with his tongue, and Hannibal feels pleasure pooling low in his stomach. Will pulls off and gives Hannibal a satisfied grin. The cool air on his cock gives the perfect antidote to the ever spiralling coil of pleasure. Hannibal groans when Will takes a finger into his mouth and sucks on it.

Hannibal watches Will with awe as he wets the digit. Then Will takes his finger out of his mouth, running it gently over the head, and his cock jumps at the touch. Then he leans in close and breathes Hannibal in.

His wet finger brushes down Hannibal’s cock and then lower, until he reaches his hole. He spreads the moisture there before closes his mouth over Hannibal’s cock. His free hand reaches to pull at his Hannibal’s hip to encourage him forwards.

Hannibal thrusts forward until Will’s nose brushes his groin. Will moans around him again, his finger massaging the ring of muscles before pushing in. Hannibal loves the feeling of knowing that he is both surrounded by Will and is surrounding Will.

Will digs his fingers into Hannibal’s hips and Hannibal takes it as encouragement to keep thrusting. He chases his pleasure with measured thrusts between the wet suction around his cock and the finger inside him.

Will is moaning gently around him. He pushes his finger into Hannibal’s prostate. Hannibal moans Will’s name like a prayer, he thanks his lucky stars that he found Will.

It only takes a few more thrusts and the pressure on his prostate for him to spill down Will’s throat. Will keeps licking him until Hannibal makes a small sound of oversensitivity. Carefully he pulls off and withdraws his finger. 

On shaky knees Hannibal crouches down in front of him. They both are breathing heavily, Will is smiling at him, and Hannibal strokes a finger down his cheek. “Allow me to return the favour.”

Will smiles again and leans back against one of the cabinets. Hannibal looks down at him. His cock is straining against the fabric of his trousers, a dark spot beginning to form. Hannibal brushes his hand over his cock and Will moans unabashedly. 

Hannibal unbuttons his trousers and pulls them off together with his underwear. His cock springs free and hits him against his stomach. Hannibal licks his lips and Will follows the motion with his eyes. Carefully he pulls the trousers all the way off.

“Turn over for me,” Hannibal says. Will looks at him with a question in his eyes, but at Hannibal’s look he turns over onto his knees. Hannibal strokes down his flanks before pushing him forward, until he is on his hands as well. 

Will is breathing heavily, as if he isn’t sure what Hannibal has planned. He pulls Will’s hips upwards, and brushes a dry finger along Will’s cleft, who gasps at the contact. He presses a kiss to the small of his back.

Hannibal spreads his cheeks and blows gently over his hole, watching in delight as it jumps. He licks a broad stripe over the muscle and Will groans his name.

“I didn’t know that people did this.” Will’s voice is hoarse. 

“I have a number of surprises up my sleeve, and I intend to see which ones you like the most.”

Will moans again, he is sweating like he is running a race.

Hannibal buries his face between the cheeks and licks again. Will is gasping unintelligible nonsense as Hannibal laves his hole.

He stiffens his tongue until he is able to penetrate Will, who is still slightly loose, and Hannibal chooses that moment to push a finger inside him beside his tongue. Will moans into his arms, his hips arch to allow Hannibal more access. Will is panting and Hannibal takes his other hand and makes a loose fist for Will to thrust into. The way is slick because Will is leaking steadily.

After a few more passes of his tongue and finger Will comes with a groan. He clenches around Hannibal’s finger and Hannibal keeps the pressure on his prostate, unrelenting till Will’s moans sound slightly pained. 

Will collapses onto the floor with a sigh. “That was intense.”

“It’s always something I’ve enjoyed doing.” Hannibal watches as Will gingerly sits up and leans against the cabinet again. Hannibal licks the come from his fingers and Will groans.

“You need to stop that, or otherwise I’m going to want more.”

“Maybe I want you to want more. So that you’re just as addicted to you as I am to you.”

Will leans over and kisses him.

“You know we have nothing to worry about with Chilton. He doesn’t have nearly as much sway as he thinks he does. Most everyone I know pays no attention to him. Besides, they will jump at the opportunity to talk to the dead. That’s why I was so popular.”

“You’re right, of course. But the cabinet depends on me, I can’t let them down. I have already let Mischa down before and I intend to never do it again.” 

“And you won’t. You’ve already done so much, you have changed these people’s lives.”

Hannibal takes Will’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You are too kind.”

“I just state things the way they are.”

“I think I need to head home and get changed.” Hannibal needs to fetch new clothes ready for the evening. He doesn’t want to leave Will, but he knows what it will look like if he appears back at the cabinet wearing the same clothes as the previous day.

Will hums and makes a disappointed face. “I would much rather come with you.”

“Some mysteries do need to be kept for a little while longer,” Hannibal says. He smiles and adds, “Besides, I know that if I got you to my home I don’t think I would want to leave again.”

Will laughs, “That is a distinct possibility.”

Hannibal carefully stands, pulling up his underwear. Looking down at Will, he loves the way that he looks completely debauched. He desperately wants to ignore everything outside of the two of them. Will smirks, like he knows exactly what Hannibal is thinking. 

He slowly gets up, pulling his trousers and underwear back on. He follows Hannibal up the stairs for him to retrieve his clothes. Will distracts him as he dresses, touching him at every opportunity. Hannibal thinks he has never laughed so much in his life, but he delights in Will’s company. 

Once he is fully dressed he gets up and makes his way down the stairs and to the front door. He turns back around to Will and kisses him deeply. It doesn’t feel right to be leaving Will in this moment. It feels like they are on the precipice of something.

Will is stroking a finger down his cheek, looking like he too would want nothing more than to stay in this little bubble.

“I will see you this evening,” Hannibal says in promise. “We have a show to do.”

Will smiles and presses one more kiss to his lips. Hannibal opens the door and steps into the cold, which is bracing against his heated skin. He turns around one more time; he is like Orpheus, he cannot resist the temptation to look back. Will is looking at Hannibal with fondness in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh Hannibal turns back around and walks down the street.

***

Mischa gives him a pointed look when he lets himself into their house, but when she sees his smile she grins. “I knew it.”

“I couldn’t resist temptation.”

“I know that feeling.” Mischa stands and throws her arms around him and hugs him tightly.

“What happens now?”

“I don’t know,” Hannibal says truthfully. “My head is spinning.”

“Will should come here to live with us.”

“You would be okay with that?”

“Hannibal, this house is more than big enough. Besides I know how much you love this house.”

He nods, tears have sprung to his eyes. Aside from Will he is sure that no one knows him as much as Mischa does. The fact that she would accept him and Will in this way, he hadn’t doubted her, but had been unsure if she would change her life enough to accommodate him. 

She releases him, not before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How quickly do you think we will be able to persuade Will to move in?”

“I don’t imagine it would take much convincing.”

“The two of you are absolutely smitten with each other.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s like I’ve met my match.”

“He does seem like the right one for you.”

“Mischa, it is like a breath of fresh air. It’s like I’m finally able to breathe again.”

“Go get changed, you lovesick fool. We have an evening to prepare.”

Hannibal smiles and moves to his bedroom. He gets changed quickly, his thoughts turning to Will constantly.

When he is finished he makes his way back downstairs to the waiting Mischa, who smiles at him.

“Come on then, let’s us show the world what they are missing.”

He smiles at her and takes her hand.

***

Hannibal is elated when he sees Will again. He is wearing the waistcoat and it brightens his eyes completely, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. The first seance is a roaring success, the tent is packed to the rafters with all sorts of people. Will had been right; people loved the macabre more than anything. 

The evening is slightly dampened with a small group of protesters who had gathered at the entrance to the grounds, led by Chilton. Hannibal recognises him instantly from the portrait that is printed in the newspaper. In real life he doesn’t cut nearly as an imposing figure as the portrait. Chilton looks directly at him when he decries him as a sinner.

Hannibal passes by him, intent on ignoring him, although he does feel the sting of his words. Will notices and squeezes his shoulder briefly, and the touch is grounding. Were they alone he would have kissed him right there and then, but he contents himself with the briefest of touches. 

Will is able to enchant the crowd in his tent. He adds just the right amount of smoke and mirrors that people don’t notice the way he scans each and every person that speaks to him. They get the answer that they are looking for and thank him with teary eyes. Hannibal knows then that Will is the answer he had always been looking for. 

Every so often he catches Will’s eyes, who is able to convey so much with only a single look. Hannibal smiles back every time, watching him with the same attention Will gives him. 

After Will finishes, Hannibal leads the crowd into the main tent, and they follow him with hushed excited whispers. He disappears behind the curtains as they take their seats. He is surprised when he sees Will waiting for him. He kisses Hannibal and it warms Hannibal’s heart how much love is poured into that small kiss. 

Once the crowd falls silent he steps into the ring.

***

The weeks pass in a blur. Every moment he can, he spends with Will. Every single time is a revelation. They bring each other to heights of pleasure that Hannibal is sure that he has never experienced before. They discuss moving in together almost every time they see each other, planning to do it as soon as the winter is over. Moving furniture and luggage would be difficult with the ice and frost that begin to permeate the city.

The only thing that dampens everyone’s mood is Chilton’s incessant articles, and the growing number of protesters that spend the evenings camped at the entrance. Hannibal tries to ignore them, but they begin to get aggressive.

One evening after the show, a group of men surround Alana on her way home and humiliate her for hours. The next morning Hannibal picks up a shaken Alana from the police station; instead of arresting the thugs, they had arrested Alana for public indecency. Hannibal is enraged, he would have enacted revenge if it wasn’t for Will’s calming presence.

Instead he goes to the police and files his own report. They believe him, and the next day Chilton’s article laments the death of freedom of conscience objections. Something about the article makes a sense of dread begins to settle low in his stomach.

Even in spite of the protests, every seance Will holds is packed, and the tent for the shows always has people standing in order to witness. Hannibal takes great pleasure in seeing Chilton’s angry face every time crowds walk past him and ignore him.

One evening Chilton and his cronies aren’t there, and it worries Hannibal. Panic begins to spread through him, and Will can sense it when he sees him. He pulls Hannibal into the back room of his tent and kisses him to try and calm him down. It does little to settle the pit of worry in his stomach.

It happens in the middle of the show: just as Beverly is soaring through the air, he smells smoke. He immediately gathers his troupe around him and sends them to quickly evacuate the audience. They look at him with worry but follow his instructions quickly. He holds Tobias back and sends him to fetch the fire station, he is the fastest runner out of all of them.

Hannibal steps into the ring, and he can see that smoke is beginning to fill the entire tent. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could ask you to follow our performers out of the tent, calmly but briskly.”

The smoke is billowing thick and fast and he looks up at Beverly, who is clambering down the scaffolding and helps her fellows to clear the tent. The light in the tent begins flickering and that is when he sees the flames. He makes his way over to them, but the heat stops him in his tracks.

He waits for the crowd to leave the tent. There are cries and screams from worried children and parents. It rends his heart in two. Only after he can no longer see anyone does he leave the tent himself. When he reaches the outside air, the clear air stings his lungs and he coughs so hard he thinks he might vomit. 

He gives himself 10 seconds to compose himself before he begins checking on the audience members. No one is hurt, but some of them have soot marks on their faces.

Hannibal tries to speak but his voice is hoarse. Will approaches him and seems to know exactly what he is trying to say.

Will steps to the gathered crowd and shouts, “Ladies and gentlemen, if I could ask you to return to your homes. We will be offering free tickets to everyone who was here tonight as soon as we have rebuilt.”

There are gasps, and Hannibal turns around to see the tent ablaze. He didn’t think his heart could hurt any more than it already does. 

“Please find Mischa book your tickets.” Will says.

_ Mischa. _ The thought is immediate, he doesn’t see the mass of her blonde curls anywhere in the crowd. He see Beverly and runs to her. “Mischa,” he croaks out.

“Hannibal, I can’t find her anywhere.” Beverly sounds as desperate as he feels. She has to have made it out, she would have known the evacuation procedure. And yet he can’t see her. Will approaches him.

“Is Mischa not here?” he asks, sounding panicked.

“She must have stayed in the office,” Beverly says with wide eyes. She realises in the same moment that he does that the office is attached directly to the tent.

“I will go,” Will says.

“No.” Hannibal is torn, he wants Will to stay safe but he could never forgive himself if Mischa was gone too.

“Hannibal, I am sure,” Will says with a finality that bears no arguments. He kisses Hannibal briefly and then turns around with a resolved set of his shoulders. He wraps his scarf around his mouth and nose.

Hannibal can only watch as Will disappears into the smoke and fire. Beverly clasps his hands and rubs circles with her thumbs. Hannibal can feel his fingers begin to numb from the way they are clutching each other.

The minutes feel as though they are hours, then he hears bells. He turns around and sees a fire van begin to approach the square. He is glad that there is almost no one left in the square except his troupe. 

He looks around and then sees one other person: Chilton is stood by the gate with a pleased smile. Hannibal runs towards him, Beverly following closely behind him. 

As soon as he is stood in front of Chilton he throws a punch. The punch connects with a dull thud, Hannibal can feel the bone splinter and his skin split open. Chilton’s neck snaps backwards, blood dripping freely from his nose and lips. The pleased smile, however, does not leave his face. Beverly practically growls before she tackles him to the ground. She begins hitting and scratching every inch of the man she can reach.

She only stops when Chilton stops moving. She stands with far more grace than Hannibal could ever manage. She adjusts her clothing and then motions Hannibal to follow him. They approach the firemen who are watching them with confused looks. One man approaches Hannibal and says, “Is he the one?”

“That started the fire?” Beverly asks bitterly. “Yes he is.”

“What are you going to do?” Hannibal asks, frustrated with their lack of action.

“With a fire like this, we have to wait for it to burn out and hope the wind doesn’t change. The structures here aren’t too close together.”

“There are people in there.” Hannibal sobs. “My sister and my-” He pauses to try and control the sobs. “And my partner.”

The man’s face falls. He turns to the group of men. “You heard him, we have possible casualties.”

“Casualties? They’re not dead yet.” Beverly growls in frustration. “Go find them.”

Hannibal wants to shout too but his lungs and throat ache.

“Where are they?”

“In the office. Round the back,” Beverly says.

“Alright. You two wait here. We will try our best.”

“Not try. Do,” Hannibal croaks.

They watch as the men make their way to the back of the remains of the tent. Soon they can no longer see them as they are obscured by the smoke.

The troupe approach them and gather around them. They are all holding onto one another and Hannibal feels like he has failed them. He can almost hear Beverly explain what is going on, but he can’t hear it over the rushing in his head. There is crying, and it takes a moment for Hannibal to realise it is him. He holds his arms to his chest, trying to find any way to calm himself down.

They watch as the tent falls, and Hannibal knows in that instant that there is no way that either have survived. He screams until his voice is gone. 

Then he sees figures approach them. It is the fireman holding someone. The person looks lifeless and his heart shatters. He rushes over to the man who is carrying Mischa. Her skin is pallid, and he is sure that she is dead. Then there is a gasping breath and he sobs with the realisation that Mischa, his dear sister, is still alive.

“She’s alive, but she will need a hospital stay.” The man says. He too sounds hoarse and is breathing heavily. Mischa is covered in soot and her face looks almost blue.

“And my partner?”

“See for yourself.” He steps to the side and Hannibal sees another fireman holding Will. His hair is singed, and his arm is badly burnt. But he is smiling broadly. Hannibal approaches him. 

“I promised you I would find her.”

“That you did,” Hannibal says with a relieved sob. 

“He will be fine, let me just bandage his arm and you can take him to his house to look after him.”

The fireman sets Will down on the ground and walks away. He slumps over onto the ground and Hannibal crouches down next to him. Hannibal can’t help himself, he kisses Will. He tastes like soot and smells like burnt flesh.

Beverly clears her throat and Hannibal breaks them apart. Will is looking at him with tired eyes that look full of love. Hannibal hopes that his eyes are telling Will how much he loves him. Will squeezes his hand like he knows.

The fireman approaches with a bottle of water and bandages. He rinses the wound and then carefully wraps it up. “You’ll need to see a doctor and get more bandages. He will probably need someone to watch over him overnight.”

“I will do it,” Hannibal says resolutely. “I will look after him and Mischa.”

“She will probably be in the hospital for a few weeks. We will take her now, to St Thomas’, and you can visit tomorrow.”

Will laughs slightly, he sounds delirious.

The fireman nods and leaves them.

“This is it,” Hannibal says. “You are coming to live with me tonight.”

Will smiles widely. “I couldn’t think of anything better. Even in spite of everything, I can’t wait to spend my life with you.”

Hannibal smiles, but it is tinged with sadness. The tent is ruined, and it will take months to rebuild.

“Hannibal, look at me,” Will says. Hannibal meets his eyes. “We will rebuild this together, as soon as we have Mischa back with us.”

“We’ll help,” Beverly says.

Hannibal looks up at his family. They all nod, looking grim but hopeful.

He looks back at Will, who smiles at him and says, “Okay. Thank you, to all of you.”

Will wraps his unhurt arm around him to pull him close. “I love you,” Will whispers into his neck.

Hannibal’s heart skips a beat and he whispers, “I love you.”

Perhaps this endeavour won’t be as catastrophic as the shop was, with Will at his side.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art of "Hannibal Lecter's Cabinet of Curiosities" by obfuscatedheart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21601225) by [kishafisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kishafisha/pseuds/kishafisha)




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